


Suns and Stars Both Light the Way

by Ramzes



Series: A Lady with a Past and Perhaps a Future, Even [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Gen, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2018-12-16 02:35:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 27,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11819439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ramzes/pseuds/Ramzes
Summary: Elia Martell was no longer the mother of the future king. She was the mother of a bastard. Two of them. Because she's no longer Rhaegar Targaryen's wife. AU in which they all live... but Rhaegar does not win. Still going more with the books than the show because show! Rhaegar was a simple jerk and what's intriguing about it?





	1. Chapter 1

Elia Martell's wedding gown was bright yellow, vivid like the sun. "Like Elia herself," Edric Dayne often said but he could not convince anyone, even Ashara, to let him steal a look.

"It's a shame, really! Even at fifteen, Ashara knows that the bridegroom must never see the wedding gown before the actual wedding. Where did I do wrong?" his mother would ask but she was smiling, as amused as Elia and Ashara at his attempts to get to know.

"I can let Arthur see it and he can describe it to you," Elia offered when the playful mood took her and both Dayne brothers choked on their drinks. Arthur would be as good at describing an intricate gown as she would be at explaining the specifics that made Dawn so much better than other blades. Of course, Edric would be just as bad at imagining from any description what the gown looked like.

Everyone awaited the day of the wedding with smiles and joy.

* * *

 

This day never came. "At least Elia is still alive", people said but to her, it was such a scarce comfort. Elia and Edric, people said, merging their names in one. How did one get used to be severed? For months, Elia would go to bed dreading the return of the memories, the roar of the Torentine sweeping away the fishing village – sweeping it away, - that little girl whom the tide was dragging further, further in, the shrieks of the mother and the shouted warnings of the men who had seen enough to know that once going this deeply in against such a raging current, one would never find the strength to fight it and go all the way back.

Edric almost did. His muscles tired from working on the makeshift embankment that had not held anyway and diving in to save those snatched in the deadly embrace of the river, his hair clinging to his face, he dove again and made it for the girl, and seeing their future lord braving the terror that was the Torrentine, strangely beautiful under the pale moon and twinkling stars, they followed.

But he did not quite make it. He was only able to push the child out of the way of the most sucking current where others caught her, tried to catch him as well but his limbs simply refused to work, negotiate these last few feet. From the edge of the river that was now at the other end of the village, Elia could hear her own screams as one of the stars twinkled and fell before her wide eyes.

For a long time, she believed that the river would return him. Alive. But it did not. And she only believed in the reality of his death when she realized that a new life was growing inside her. A child who was already an orphan before it was born.

* * *

 

 _If I had waited,_ Elia raged and cursed herself. Silently, of course. She was already the subject of so many rumours and pitying looks, ever since her belly had started growing visibly. The poor pregnant wife as her husband pined after his wild wolf girl! He had crowned Lyanna Stark to Elia's face, had he not? If her anger became visible now, she'd only be confirmed as being the shrew who had tortured her poor princely husband so.

Three years, just three years! She was furious with her mother, with Doran, with herself, with Rhaegar for accepting a wife when all he needed had been a companion in bed – for just part of the night, - his old parchments, and his harp.

Three years, and she would have been making the preparations for her wedding to Edric right now, instead of praying that she and the child she carried lived because Rhaegar just had had to make love to her – as he had called it – in the night the comet had fallen. Not caring that she was still weak, feeble, plagued by headaches and bleedings that should have stopped two months after Rhaenys' birth.

Edric would have never done this. Not to her, not to any other wife.

He had returned. He was alive. And she was already wed because she had not believed this first instinct that had made her defiant and refusing to listen to anyone trying to make her see reality. Because the reality that she had accepted had turned false. Just like everything else that mattered in her life.

She longed to see him again and she never wanted to see him because seeing him when he was no longer hers? She could not think she could bear it. It could be worse than the pain of childbirth and the Mother knew that Elia was well acquainted with pain. She had never expected the one she had had at her births, though. And she awaited the birth of this child, the heir that Rhaegar believed was the Prince Who Was Promised with fear that she had learned not to try and suppress because this just made it worse.

* * *

 

She saw him again when she was trying to chase the nightmare off, wake up and find out that Rhaegar had never absconded with Lyanna Stark, she had never been brought to King's Landing, there has never been a war that was already being passed off as the war for Rhaegar's great love, where her goodfather and husband did not hold her and her children as a sword over Doran's head. That same Lyanna Stark. In other words, wake up and find out that her life was not her life but the bad dream it felt like.

Her Dornish handmaiden asked her in a hushed voice to go the small solar, so she did – and froze.

Rhaegar Targaryen and Edric Dayne stood facing each other.

It was surreal. Something that could not be, although her entire life could not have been for a year but it was. They both were.

Edric had never been a sturdy man but now he had become what some would call gaunt. Elia called it slender. His black eyes were unfathomable, yet it was not lack of feeling but the forcing of any feeling out before a battle that the sandy Dornish were famous for in their lifetime of battles with men and sands – and Edric's mother was of House Qorgyle. His olive face had become even darker in his years in Essos. But when he saw her, the cloud of their years apart seemed to lift and he smiled at her as he had once. She replied in kind, forgetting that her husband was watching.

And then, reality came crashing back, pressing her under its weight. Edric stirred a little, as if throwing it off, and said, "We don't have time. Take the children. I'm taking you back to Dorne."

Elia gasped. And looked at Rhaegar.

"Don't look at him at all," Edric said sharply. "He has renounced any rights over your fate and your children's fate when he had the marriage annulled."

This time, her gasp was more pronounced. Rhaegar shifted uncomfortably and she knew it was true. He had thrown her and the children away and not bothered to tell her. He had not told anyone. Because Dorne would not fight for him – and Lyanna Stark!

Rhaegar made it to support her when she swayed and she staggered back, horrified that he might touch her. Edric didn't even move but then, he had always seen her as strong. He expected that she would not fall and she did not. The nausea, however, could not be fought back. She was not the mother of the future king. She was the mother of a bastard. Two of them. Three, if the truth ever came out.

"Are you better now?" Edric asked after a while and she nodded, not looking at the mess on the floor. "Are you ready to travel?"

"Yes," Elia said. "So, he had the marriage annulled? On what grounds?" she asked, not looking at Rhaegar. She did not want to look at him because she'd throw up again if she did and whatever he told her, it would be a lie.

"That you used to be betrothed to me and since I was not kind enough to die, the betrothal still stood. That you were not free to wed him. He even looked a little sad, I was told. Not for long, though. He married Lyanna Stark in Dorne and they were both brimming with happiness. Are you going to swoon, or what?"

"No," Elia said through clenched teeth, once she regained the strength to speak. "So, he's replacing my children with hers? How could you ever make hum let us go then? He's clinging to us as precious hostages against Doran."

Edric smiled. "His little love, his true princess, or whatever he insists on calling her, is enjoying our hospitality at Starfall. And since he is so keen on meeting his trueborn child, I'll be happy to send it to him soon. I'll cut it personally from his mother's belly. Accompanied by a finger from her white hand. He became very amenable all of a sudden."

Something held Elia's eye. A laurel of dried flowers. The crown Lyanna Stark had obviously kept all this time to remind her of the most glorious moment in her life. She did not even want to step over it, it looked so filthy to her.

"But how?" she asked again.

Edric sighed. "You won't move before I tell you, will you? Very well. Let's say I have a package to deliver. I have to admit that I'm curious at what it reads. Arthur would not tell me, although he intends to have copies send to every important House in the realm to let everyone know, just like everyone will get to know that you've been discarded and your children made bastards… once the Prince of Dragonstone is finished using Dorne to fight his battles. By the way, these men Prince Lewyn is leading? Forget about them. They're marching back. We are not fighting for Lyanna Stark and her son and that's it."

He produced a sealed parchment and handed it to Rhaegar. And a length of white cloth that he tossed on the floor as if he could not wait to get rid of it. "White was never Arthur's colour anyway," he said.

Aboard the ship, Elia turned back to watch the lights of the city that had given her nothing but disdain and humiliation. She held Aegon closer and wondered if Rhaegar had made it safely back to the Red Keep after leading them out through the secret passages that he had known were there all along. She hoped that a random cutthroat will cross paths with him before he returned to the castle where everything he had stood for before Lyanna Stark had fled, leaving only a parchment that had made him white with anger and a length of white cloth. Just a white cloak and nothing else.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who commented!

 The first night was the hardest. Grief and humiliation had squeezed her in a grip so tight that she could see nothing, hear nothing but her children's whimpers. They were not accustomed to a ship and they felt her agitation. Finally, she was forced to leave the cabin because the unrest she caused just by being there was too much. The nursemaids would do a better job without her here to hinder them.

The moon was beautiful tonight. Elia only noticed it after hours had passed with tears running silently down her cheeks, the open air so salty that the tracks immediately dissolved into the general stickiness of her skin. This way, she could pretend that she was not crying at all and that was what she did when Edric finally came close and she startled, ashamed. Weeping over a man who had tossed her and his children aside? That was what Edric would think, for sure, and she could never explain that it was not for Rhaegar that she was crying. Anyway, it was humiliating for her as a woman and for a daughter of Dorne to waste precious water on anything related to such a creature was more than humiliating. It was simply irresponsible of her, it equaled treason.

Fortunately, Edric did not try to engage her in a conversation. He just stood next to her, gazing out in the night, and after a while, Elia felt calmer. It was then that she noticed the beauty of the night, the thrill of the sea air. She had always liked it because it had been the first air of adventure that she had ever smelled in her life but she truly loved feeling it not because she _loved_ it. She had always loved watching him breathe it.

They had enjoyed some very different things but they had enjoyed them together. After that night of flood and horror, she had been unable to take sea air in if not forced. She had even traveled for her wedding on land, longer and more cumbersome as it had been. But now, with him here, despite everything she felt a flicker of joy. Her onetime love of the breath of sea had returned.

"I have always loved the almost full moon," she heard herself say. "It brings out the stars most fully, don't you think?"

Without saying anything, he opened his cloak and wrapped her in. Only when she felt the beating of his heart and started shaking, Elia realized how close she had been to the state when one no longer could generate warmth on their own, the state that almost always ended in death.

* * *

On the second day of their journey, Elia learned that they would not go down the route to Sunspear. "This is where we'll be expected to go," Edric said briefly. "And I am sorry to say it, Elia, but once your absence is discovered, it will be the routes to Sunspear that they will look for you. If you insist on going there, we will, of course, but… in your shoes, I'd rather not have taken the risk."

"Then, I won't either," Elia said, wondering if he would pursue the ambition that he had never kept hidden, leading the Dornish fleet one day. He knew more than most about sea routes and currents but this was true for many others. Once, he had been fiercely competitive. Was he still?

Aegon stirred in her arms and Edric stared at him with strange expression. Elia knew that in her son's features, there was not the slightest resemblance to her but he was her child. Was it her babe that Edric was seeing, or the man who had had her? Even Aegon's own father did not cherish him. Why would Edric?

At the end, she did not dare ask.

* * *

Ashara ran to meet them the moment their boat approached the shore. Her gown became wet in the waves but she did not seem to notice. Both women wept with joy and relief and for the first time, Elia felt safe.

"Do not squirm so!" Edric said sharply and Elia looked up, alarmed. Was he snapping at Rhaenys whom he was carrying because she was squirming dangerously in his arms and he could drop her, or because he was angry with her? Angry with a little girl? But then she saw the concentration with which the captain carried Aegon and felt guilty for her immediate suspicion.

In the white castle, Lady Dayne curtsied as if Elia was still a princess… which she was, of course. She was still a princess of Dorne and this, no one could take from her, ever. The woman's eyes, still slightly squinted when she was trying to see clear even when the object was close enough and the sun was not blazing nearly as blindingly as it did in the desert, were keen and so very black. Qorgyle's eyes, born and trained to use in the desert. No one could take that from Lady Amira, not more than a half life spent in the coolness and relatively mild sun at the shores of the Torentine. Elia was startled to realize just how much she had let the North take from her. Suddenly, Rhaegar's behavior became more understandable to her, although not an ounce more forgivable. How could she have expected of him to respect her when she had unwittingly given up on her own self-respect? Embroiled in the battles around the Iron Throne and Rhaegar's moods, she had pushed her own second. Somewhere along the way, she had lost Elia of Dorne and he must have felt this weakness of hers. He had an inane gift for smelling people's weaknesses.

And then, another pair of black eyes made the breath freeze in her breast. Allyria was staring at her with curiosity and a little fear, probably struck with awe at seeing a true princess. Perhaps she thought Elia was still the future queen – no one would have discussed such matters in the presence of a child. Of course, Elia knew that the Daynes had been slow to send Allyria to the Water Gardens, although she would go when she turned six – not sending her at all might lead to bigger problems than taking the risk to send her. Not that any problems were evident in her. She looked intelligent, with the dark Qorgyle skin and the fair Dayne hair, much like Lady Amira… and Edric.

Yes, six was a good age. Elia swallowed, realizing that she was trying to avoid the most pressing issue of all – to find her voice and say something. Fortunately, Lady Dayne took Allyria by the hand and accompanied the formal introductions with the note that the Princess was tired and needed her rest. Elia nodded gratefully, although she desperately longed to hear the child's voice.

As she crossed the open gallery on the second floor to the rooms she would stay in, something made her stop dead in her tracks. Something like prickling on her skin, uncomfortable sensation that she was being splashed with something unclean. She looked up and left, at the angle under which the two wings met. Lyanna Stark – no, she was Lyanna Targaryen now, was she not? – froze, her hand staying on the window that she had clearly been about to slam. The two of them stared at each other, separated only by a glass that was washed so clear that it could be invisible, yet if the two of them extended their arms to touch, blood would gush from both of them and stain the beautiful white walls, all the way down to the courtyard.

Even Elia had not looked this bad when she had been carrying her children. Lyanna had lost all of her slender grace that gave certain beauty to her irregular features. It did not matter how far along she was, she should not look this swollen. Retained water, in all probability. Face drained of all colour. Had she just thrown up her meal? Ticks twisting her face every few seconds or so. Elia took notice of these changes without malice but without the sympathy she felt when she saw a woman struggling with this state either. She looked at Lady Dayne. "How has she been behaving?"

"Arrogantly," her hostess replied. "She threatens and insists that we let her go, as if she believes that her precious Rhaegar holds some authority here. I think she hopes to make us forget the fact that all the castle can hear her in her fits of weeping and anger. In these moments, I wish I could let Rhaegar in. It will save both sides in this war a lot of effort. She will get the job done as well as any man. She is furious at him for making a fool out of her and at herself, even more. For falling for his words, you know."

Elia almost laughed. Rhaegar had rejected her to replace her with her! Threaten Elia Martell's position and life, and she would put up a good fight; aim at her family, pride and self-respect, and she would drop down dead. The girl he had chosen was not so different, it seemed. She would love to see Rhaegar and Lyanna's married life in, say, a year, if not for the fact that the very thought of these few made her gorge rise. Determinedly, she turned her back on the window.

* * *

"What happened?" she asked when Arthur entered her solar with the face of a man preferring to see Aerys in one of his fits, rather than her.

"I have no idea," he said honestly. "He started going mad at Harrenhall, I think. Before this, he was always livid if I let a blow slide by or something because of my vow not to hurt him; at the tourney, he did not even realize that I had fought under my abilities."

Elia nodded. She had always wondered why the Kingsguard faced members of the royal family at all when they were disadvantaged from the start… and she had been equally stunned to realize that Rhaegar truly thought he had won fairly and squarely.

"I was not enthused about this Stark thing from the very beginning," Arthur went on. "It looks like Rhaegar knew more than he let on because I was the only one who was surprised when he produced his ridiculous piece of paper with the High Fool's signature on it. Of course, at the time we were so removed from any place of habitation that he thought I would just go with his orders and my duty because it wasn't as if I had this many options."

"But you still found some," Elia said, almost absent-mindedly, because Edric had suddenly turned quite pale – his bronze skin had literally changed to white in the blink of an eye.

Arthur smiled. "There was a fact that he and my so-called brothers had overlooked. This tower of joy was in Dornish territory. They were on my territory… and my squire's."

If it was up to Elia, she would knight young Olyvar Jordayne on the spot. He might have just saved her children's lives.

Suddenly, Arthur sprang up.

Edric was lying prostrate on the floor, not reacting to their shouts or even the slap Arthur delivered on his cheek that immediately turned blue. For a moment, they thought he had died for real this time – Arthur who had heard about his brother's trouble and Elia who knew nothing at all.

"Take him to bed," Lady Dayne ordered when the scared servants summoned her. "He will be all right," she assured Elia, although her own face was just as white as her son's. "He's just suffering one of the headaches that he told me about the second day after his miraculous return, to not let me go scared when it happened. You mean he did not tell you?"

Silently, Elia shook her head. She's ask him when he awoke. But she already knew that he would never be a great sea captain, no more than she would be a future Queen.

But when he opened his eyes, he looked so exhausted that she did not have the heart to ask why he had hidden his weakness from her when he had seen hers. She only took his hand as he had taken hers. "I'll wait here," she said and he smiled. They both knew what she would be waiting – the battle that would determine what the name of the next Lord of the Seven Kingdoms would be.

* * *

"Not Rhaegar Targaryen," Elia whispered with vicious joy when the black wings carried over the news of her husband's defeat and fleeing from the battlefield, of his trying to still consolidate his remaining forces, of Tywin Lannister declaring for the rebels, finally.

Unwittingly, Rhaegar might have just done her and the children that he had bastardized the greatest favour of all, putting his beloved Lyanna Stark in the danger that would have else been meant for them instead.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much, dear everyone, for commenting.

"They can't even crown him," Elia breathed when the news of the last development reached Starfalls on swift wings mere weeks after the Battle of the Trident. "Not while Aerys still lives."

"They can't, indeed," Lord Dayne agreed and looked at Lewyn. "You've been awfully silent, old friend. Am I to understand that you regret Arryn's caution?"

Lewyn laughed, incredulous. "And you can still ask! Did you miss the part where Aerys was about to burn the entire King's Landing? Preventing Rhaegar from being crowned is a good thing and all that but what if they somehow manage to free Aerys? What would stop their loyalist to continue the fight in his name?"

"Common sense?" Ulrick Dayne suggested but Lewyn's look made him rethink. "Very well, let's say that the Targaryen madness is showing in me and leave it at this."

"Don't jape about this, Ulrick," Lewyn said sharply. "Do not."

Ulrick gave him a long look and then looked at Arthur and Elia. "I am not sure I want to know what the three of you have seen," he finally said.

A wise man, he was. Elia quickly returned to the problem at hand. "So, Rhaegar has retreated to Dragonstone with the remaining fleet?"

"It looks like this," Lord Dayne confirmed. "If he has some common sense left, he will understand that he cannot win now. He will only waste what he still has. He should go to Essos and turn this fleet into the core of the army he should gather…"

"Are you going to apply for his chief strategist, my lord?" Elia snapped. It was waste of time to think of what Rhaegar should do rationally. Rationality had never been his guiding star. "I am telling you that he will fight to the bitter end."

He sighed. "He can't be this deluded, Princess. He…"

"Are my children going to grow up?" she asked directly. "If you're all so sure that Robert Baratheon will keep the throne?"

None of the people in the room was willing to give her false assurances. "Their chances are far better now, thanks to their father," Lord Dayne finally said. "And Robert Baratheon was finally convinced to leave even Aerys alive. We will do everything to protect them, my lady. Actually, I would have been more concerned about their lives if Rhaegar had triumphed."

It made Elia sick to consider it but it was true. Aegon would have always been a threat to Lyanna Stark's sons. Now, the greatest threat had been redirected to the child Lyanna herself was carrying but Elia still saw red at the thought that her children's father had willingly risked their very lives like this, in addition to leaving them in the deadly company of his own father – to win Dorne's support for his new child!

"I will go to King's Landing," she finally said. "I will fall at his feet. I'll wipe his boots with my hair if I must! He will take pity of me and my children. He has to."

"The danger will be greatly diminished," Edric said with carefully level voice, "if you are already wed at this time, to someone who isn't in the position to press any claims on Aegon's part."

Elia wanted to scream. It was true, it was reasonable, it was her heart's desire… it was also impossible.

* * *

"Why is it impossible?" Edric asked as casually as if they were discussing the weather when she told him, as soon as they were alone.

"Because it won't be fair to you. Has Arthur told you the reason Rhaegar left me?"

Edric raised an eyebrow. "He keeps certain confidences confidential. Have you done something this very bad, Elia? Something that exonerates your husband in treating you like this? I have to admit it's hard for me to imagine what it might be."

She laughed harshly. "In Rhaegar's eyes? Yes. I had the insolence to become barren at Aegon's birth. I could not give him more children… and I can't give you children either. If you wed me, you'll only have to raise Rhaegar's children… because I will not let anyone take them away from me, Edric. I won't."

For a moment, the stunned pain on his face was too much for her. But he got his bearing soon enough. "How do you know?" he asked. "How could anyone know? As far as I know, no one can make such an assessment in the immediate aftermath of a birthing bed."

"No, they said…" Elia started and then fell silent. It had never occurred to her before that no one, _no one_ could have possibly known. What machinations had been going there behind her back? Was it the maesters? Or Rhaegar? She had never heard this from a maester, never. Had Rhaegar made it up so he could get rid of her more easily?

However, the extent of Rhaegar's betrayal was not her focus now, Edric was. A marriage to him would give her all she wanted – and burden him with loads of troubles. "I won't even say that it might be dangerous for you to wed me," she said. "You already know it. But you must understand something, Edric. Even if someone spoke without knowing, it's still possible that I am truly barren now. Aegon's birth was so hard that everyone thought I would die."

"Save for Ashara, as I hear," he said almost light-heartedly but his eyes were serious. "Elia, I was dead and I came back. Such things change a man profoundly. I don't care about inheritance and such things. There are enough Daynes around to carry the family name."

Elia swallowed. He had not mentioned that he did not care if he would have children of his own and as much as she appreciated his unwillingness to lie to her, she would have liked to have heard and believed it – but only if it was true. Which it clearly was not. She fought the temptation to tell him that It should not matter, that the two of them had a child already. Which would only make him hurt like she did.

Fear for the children vied with fear of him turning away from her in a number of years. She looked away. "May I have some time to think?" she asked.

" _I_ am ready to give you all the time you want," he said. "Not everyone will be."

* * *

She could not sleep. Instead, she paced and paced around in her bedchamber, wondering if Lyanna Stark was the only other person awake. With insomnia plaguing her, she had noticed that the other woman's chamber never stayed unlit, no matter how late at night it was. Elia supposed that Lyanna had trouble sleeping as well, apart from the babe probably being more active at night.

On her part, she could not say what she feared most. The new King. Edric stopping loving her. Her children turning out to be like Aerys and perhaps Rhaegar. Her not daring to grasp her chance. Edric realizing that one of the reasons she refused was the fact that should she wed him, she would lessen Aegon's chances to ascend to the Iron Throne even more, although now, at this very moment, a new dynasty was being established and she did not _want_ for her son to become King. Yet she was afraid of damaging his chances.

"A man can be happy without being King," a woman spoke when Elia transferred her pacing to the terrace opening to all the chambers on this side of the floor, and indicated that the young woman should take a seat on the chair next to her and breathe the enticing aroma of night flowers. "Thousands of men are."

"But they were not born in the royal line and deprived of their rights through no fault of their own."

"I know. I feel like I have spoken these same words…"

"About Lord Ulrick?"

The old Rhae Dayne, princess of House Targaryen, gave her a long look but did not press the matter further. Her purple eyes shone in the moonlight like twin stars. "It is for the best, Elia. We Targaryens are dangerous and we feed our madness when we're around each other. I don't like it and I can't explain it but I know it to be true. I think we carry not only the might of Valyria but also its taint. And we feed it in each other. Away from King's Landing, your Aegon will have the chance to be the man he was truly meant to be, without the burden of all these expectations good and bad."

"Is this why you rarely visited King's Landing after your father's death?" Elia asked.

Rhae nodded. "I put an end to it before my children could be infected. Sometimes, an end is something good."

Elia stared at her. "You're talking as if you approve what all of them did. The rebels."

Rhae laughed bitterly. "I hate what they did," she said. "Even if it was for the best of the realm… in which I am not sure at all yet."

"I am no longer sure in anything either," Elia said quietly. "I am not even sure that I love Edric or that he loves me. What if we're both in love with a memory?"

The dowager Lady Dayne shook her head. "Then, I'd have you both get over your insecurities, one way or another, before _all_ dreams you have ever had for your children become the most recent memory in your life."

* * *

The chamber at the top floor of the Snake Tower smelled of fresh paint and horror. Elia shivered when she stood before the only wall that had not been painted white recently. What shades of Edric's dreams did these white layers conceal? Even when they had been betrothed, he had poured out those in his painting, not in front of her. But now, she saw something that was undoubtedly… dragons. And a woman, as silver-haired as the Queen, riding on the back of misery and dread, flames racing around her, burning through her without even singeing her. By the Seven, chasing dragons had been Rhaegar's madness, not Edric's! She quickly looked away, only to be confronted with something that to her foolish heart was even worse. A thick piece of wood – Edric had told her about the new techniques of painting over wood that he had learned in Essos. He had failed to mention the _objects_ that he had painted, though, and this one made her ground her teeth. A young woman, her black hair curling over her shoulders, emerging from the sea wrapped in a see-through veil alone. The droplets shone off her dark skin, so real that Elia could almost touch them. The green-eyed monster worked its vile sorcery on her and she grounded her teeth. There was no doubt that Edric had not only painted the lady but also bedded her. Elia wanted to set the piece to fire but she was not Aerys to burn things just because they displeased her! Determinedly, she turned her back at the painting, looked at the walls of the chamber given to Edric to use when he needed to let his dreams come out without sounding mad, and wished that she could paint a new start for herself, for him, for her children this easily.

Instead, they were burdened with the fear for Rhaenys and Aegon's future, the reality about the child that he did not even know they had, and the danger that would come when the new rulers realized that Lyanna Stark was at Starfall because no matter what, they could not just throw her out. The girl was so far along that she could easily give birth on the road while looking for Rhaegar… or die trying to.

Perhaps they could send her to King's Landing. Let her brother and former betrothed deal with her. It was none of Elia's concern. But if they did, it would become clear that they had been keeping her at Starfall – and this could make the new strong men in the realm suspect partiality to Rhaegar's action.

As hard as she tried, Elia could not see a good way to solve the situation – and neither could anyone else.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who commented!

Two days. That was the absolute limit that Elia had decided to allow herself before she made her decision. Every day that passed without a decisive statement that she was distancing herself and her children from Rhaegar's cause and claims was time that she could not recover. Soon, she'd have to leave for Sunspear anyway and then, the decision would be taken out of her hands and transferred into Doran's. She had let him and their mother choose her spouse twice – once successfully, once terrifyingly not so. She was not keen on tossing the coin for a third time.

She made her decision before the sun rose for the third time – when she headed for Edric's chamber and still hesitated before sliding next to him in bed. And then, she noticed that his dark eyes were open, although barely, and following her every movement, and her courage melted away as she remembered those nights, their first nights of caution, velvet, and fire. Now she knew enough to realize that she had been probably the most awkward girl Edric had bedded, ever, and her dutiful life with Rhaegar had taught her little beyond the ecstasy and shared joy that she had once started discovering with Edric. She had even forgotten this! What would he think?

He stirred and she thought he would move over to make room for her, hold out a hand in a silent invitation. Instead, he rose and turned toward the brightening windows. Elia gasped as the web of faint and fierce scars of cuts and wounds extended before her eyes. Somehow, she had never thought that the river would leave him with so many of these. His survival had truly been a miracle. She slowly touched a jagged curved line close to his side and he grimaced. "This one almost killed me," he said. "I still have no idea what I came across at in the water… but it obviously cut me all the way to the organs and then became infected. Your turn," he added when she was done tracing the marks on his body.

Elia hesitated. The three pregnancies had left their marks on her. She had been lucky that after the first time, nothing had been visible and Rhaegar had been so inept that he had been unable to tell a virgin from a woman who had already given birth – but now, no one could take her for anything other than what she was. A mother. She bravely reached for her robe and opened it.

He took a long look at the excess skin handing around her belly, the marks cutting it and her thighs like a web of blood. And slowly drew a hand across the marks, like she had done with him.

Behind the window, dark wings flew, carrying fate with them.

* * *

 

Mellario arrived at Sunspear unexpected and uninvited, just two days later, in time to attend the wedding… and voice any objections that Doran could have made. She did not.

"What matters," she said, "is that he's a man of his word. And that he loves you. He's as different from Rhaegar as he might be… what is Rhaegar doing now? How are the things going?"

"Still the same," Elia replied. "Yesterday, a missive came. He asks what we want in exchange for returning his precious Northern girl to him. I hope I'm able to use this letter as a proof that he has truly disinherited the children – he was quite clear who his heir was!"

"Let's hope it works…" Mellario said and hesitated. "It's a good thing that you're getting wed, Elia. A raven arrived at Sunspear. The new king demands of Doran to send you and the children back to King's Landing."

That was what Elia had expected but it still made her blood curdle. Her goodsister took her hand. "Doran won't do it, of course, rest assured," she said quickly. "But you must settle this with Baratheon, else you can never live in peace."

Elia knew it, yet even as she stared out the window and saw the men and women running about to make Starfall even lovelier for her wedding, she felt some new reluctance that had nothing to do with not diminishing her son's chances to ever come to the Iron Throne. "I know," she said tiredly and Mellario gave her a close look.

"Are these misgivings that I am hearing?"

"Not about the man," Elia replied immediately. "I wanted to wed Edric. I still do. But the marriage itself… I am not sure. These few weeks that I spent here… I had almost forgotten what it felt like to be listened to and respected because of who I am and not whom I have wed. And I truly enjoyed not being subjected to a husband, be it in bed or at the table." She sighed. "I've never envied Doran his place in Dorne, you know. But as infatuated as he is with you, the balance of power even in your marriage is tilted too much in his favour, is it not? It was different with my parents."

To this, Mellario had nothing to say and Elia thought, ungraciously, that she could have done without reminding herself that even love matches did not guarantee happiness. How well did she know Edric after all these years?

* * *

 

She wed Edric in a bright sunlit day, with the sky and sea both blue and white, and sparlking like her wedding gown that the seamstresses at Starfall had worked day and night to prepare. It was white, on Elia's wish – she wanted to challenge everyone who dared claim that she was not as pure as the white snow that only those who had traveled north had seen. The Torentine rippled and whispered and it was hard to believe that this was the same fierce river that had once put an end on Elia and Edric's married life before it had even started.

Aegon had chosen this day to start walking and his nursemaid had to leave the sept soon enough since he, with increasing excitement, had discovered the art of staggering about this pair of feet or that gown and tugging at them, only to smile beautifully at the annoyed faces looking down at him. Thankfully, Rhaenys slept through the entire ceremony but Allyria watched everything, wide-eyed.

"I've never seen a more curious child, yet she keeps her questions to herself until she can find the answers or feels it's the right moment to ask the question," Edric commented later and laughed. "You know what? She reminds me of you."

How these words echoed in Elia's heart! Fortunately, he did not see anything out of order because despite her expectations that it would be all an affair of prudence, she was overwhelmed by happiness, fear, tears, and all things a bride usually experienced. This stupid heart of hers did not care about the particulars.

"It feels strange, doesn't it?" Larra Blackmont said as the two of them walked together in the gardens to get away from the feast for a while. "I mean, some five years ago, we were planning on decorations of this very castle for your wedding and here we are, five years later. It feels like the Seven have been sleeping."

"Sometimes," Elia said softly, "I think they must truly have…"

She looked at the hall where Edric was. Her husband. Her husband! How was she to believe that the last five years had truly taken place? Sometimes, she could only do so when she heard Rhaenys and Aegon's voices. When she looked at the lamps ready to be lit as soon as twilight descended, at the heaps of flowers adorning every corner of every hall and yard, at her oldest friends from this part of Dorne and everyone in the castle dressed to look their best – how could she not? And yet, even now reality was making a timid attempt to settle back. Elia was so happy that Larra and the rest of them had come, else Edric would have been surrounded by people who loved him while she would have only had Lewyn and Mellario. Anger rose quick and fierce because even this was Rhaegar's fault. A Dornish princess deserved to have a glorious wedding if she so chose. Not that Elia would have necessarily wanted one but she would have liked to have the choice. Instead, she had to go with what she had – with the woman Rhaegar had replaced her with watching, her nose pressed against the glass of her window, lest she missed something! Elia had little doubt that the blasted girl would report to Rhaegar as soon as she saw him. Not that she knew she would see him at all, of course. The decision had been quite a recent one and a little more life in the dark had not killed anyone. Unless they were called Brandon Stark, of course.

"I hope the two of you are very happy," Ashara said sincerely when Elia sat down next to her.

Feeling the sad envy in her voice, Elia hugged her. "Very soon, it will be your turn, dearest," she said. "And your wedding gown will be just as lovely, I promise you."

Ashara had risen and fallen with her, this was the fate of ladies in-waiting. Elia would do anything to help the girl rebound from the drabness called life at court!

"I'll miss you," Ashara said. "Are you sure I cannot come with you?"

Edric and Elia shared an exasperated look. "No," he said with the weary air of man who had said the same things many times over. "Elia doesn't need lady companions for this. And there is still a war, Ashara! I am not pushing you in their hands and that's it."

She looked about to object but her father, her mother, her grandmother were all giving her a stern look, so she kept silent.

"When are you leaving?" she asked finally.

"As soon as the Stark girl does," Edric replied.

* * *

 

It was a good thing that the two of them had celebrated their wedding night in advance because when it was time for the real thing, Edric spent it unconscious, in the grip of yet another one of his terrible headaches. Lady Dayne tried to lead Elia away but she shook her off without saying a word. Now, she could see what he had meant when he had said that this time, he was entering the marriage with health troubles that could create far more problems than her own. These headaches could and did come without warning, at moments most inconvenient, and left him dead to the world.

"He won't die," Arthur said calmly when he entered late in this wedding night. "And over time, we'll get used to it."

She had the feeling that he was trying to convince himself as much as her. "It's hard for you as well, is it not?" she asked, suddenly realizing for how long they had not spoken of anything truly important, save for Rhaegar's plans, of course. In fact, nothing that was not about Rhaegar and without Rhaegar being there.

He was staring down at the bed and Elia marveled at the hypocrisy that was the Kingsguard. The bond was there, yes, yet how could anyone believe that when saying Brother to one of those men, Arthur had put in the same meaning as he had when addressing his real brother. He could have called them Ser Nobody, to the same effect.

"You were not the only one whose life has been shaken to the core, Princess," he said.

For the first time, she realized how terrible he looked. Gaunter. Suffering from insomnia. He had always been pale-skinned but with the healthy darker sprinkle that helped him not to burn each time he went out into the Dornish sun. Now, he had lost this. But when he looked at her, it was the old daring smile that she was met with.

"We will survive," she vowed and he nodded, then laughed.

"I would think so! I survived for three days when eating with one hand and writing with the other, did I not?"

"Writing?" Her curiosity arose. "The letter you sent Rhaegar and copied for the most important lords in the realm? I never saw it."

He looked surprised, then nodded. "I never came around to give Edric one. Very well, I'll give you a copy. But not now. I only came to tell you that they're leaving with the night tide. Do you want to talk to them? You won't have another chance, you know."

For a moment, Elia hesitated. Talk to them? What use would there be? Talk to two men whom she barely knew and to whom she had been only duty and now was not even that? Demean herself to ask an explanation of Lyanna Stark?

"No," she said slowly and looked at Edric. He was breathing more easily now and her fears had alleviated somewhat. He would live. But he had no idea that she was here. It would make no difference to him if she was not. "But I'll come to see them leave."

She wanted to make sure that they were gone. A Lyanna Stark at Dragonstone meant that all the realm would see that Elia and her children meant nothing for Rhaegar now. But the girl had this habit of forcing herself back into Elia's life quite uninvited. Elia wanted to see her gone.

Her goodmother – goodmother, Elia could hardly believe it – came with a warm cloak. It got quite cold here at night. A few guards fell in step behind them as they walked toward the harbor under the castle where a dark ship was rocking over the waves, as dark as the attires of the ones being led towards it. No more white cloaks for them, for now, at least. Elia felt a rush of deep, vindictive joy, utterly inappropriate for such a small and temporary detail.

Gerold Hightower and Oswell Whent went past her without looking. They knew what they had helped Rhaegar do had been cruel and unfair and did not want to face her. Lyanna Stark, though, did not do Elia the favour of just passing by. On the contrary, she looked around, looked for her and when she saw her, she ran for her as best as the enormous belly would let her. Elia stared at her, stunned and horrified, with the only thought that this woman might reach out and touch her.

"Is it true?" Lyanna asked urgently, her eyes deep and desperate. "Are they truly dead? Is this not a lie?"

Elia stared at her. The moon turned the girl's face ghastly white. Only those eyes, deep and grey, lived, filled with desperate fear, and Elia felt sick at the realization of how pitiful this girl who had been so boldly different and indifferent at Harrenhall had become. She wanted to believe that the men who had been guarding her, the man that she had run away with had chosen to be cruel to her, lie to her that her father and brother were still alive, just to relish her suffering, when the Starks were, in fact, well and safe, and she had no one else to demand a confirmation for this desperate theory but her, the woman that she had disdained and robbed so.

"Is it a lie?" Lyanna insisted, and Lord Dayne shook his head impatiently.

"We don't have the time for such nonsense," he snapped and then, the girl threw her head back and her voice echoed in the night lie a prolonged wolf howl, "Is it a lie?!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who commented!

Ashara made one last attempt at the time they were headed to board the ship. "Let me come."

"Out of question," Edric snapped and she glared.

"I was addressing Elia, if you don't mind."

"Out of question," Elia said tiredly. She was not taking Ashara into whatever awaited them.

The soft twilight mist veiled their faces and it was a good thing. Elia did not want her feelings to show and she was not sure she could prevent them from playing all over her face. She kissed Ashara, her goodmother, then, with her heart pounding, Allyria. Arthur looked grim, even in the mist. He realized that his coming would just make it worse for everyone but he disliked being left here. It would make more than a year of idleness for him and he had never taken well to it.

Elia looked at the castle glowing impossibly white in the distance. There, Rhaenys and Aegon were being prepared for bed. She had waved at them as they watched from the window, too young to understand that she was going to meet the fate of all of them. What this fate was, only time would tell.

Soon.

"Come on," Edric said. They had to go out into the open sea before the night tide. Elia still shuddered at the memory of the flood – and experienced boatmen were leery to cross the Torentine at night even at the best of weather.

She took his hand and headed towards her fate.

The journey was a peaceful one, at least where the sea was concerned. Sometimes, the sticky wind on her skin and the incredible blend of scarlet, aquamarine blue, and orange that was deeper than even the ripest blood oranges made her forget the haunting worry, the growing fear, the nightmares that had started coming back, their frequency intensifying with each mile bringing them closer to King's Landing. In daytime, she loved watching the sailors go about their job, liked their songs and ribald jokes.

She hated the sad envy in Edric's eyes when he watched them, though, and she wondered if it had been there the first time, when they had fled to Starfall, and she had been just too blinded by her own grief and rage to see it. Not that seeing it did her much good now. He would not talk about it and whenever he caught her being more patient and tender with him, he flew into a rage. "Don't do this," he would snap. "Don't indulge me as if I am a child. It happened and that's it. No need to treat me as if I'm ill."

But she was so used to indulging Rhaegar about his prophetical leanings – and sometimes, not listening to him at all, although she rarely showed it – that she felt she would need much time to overcome it. Of course, she could not say so to Edric. Their arguments became sharper because he wanted her to have expectations of him and she had almost forgotten how to state her own demands loud and clear. "Who are you?" he would ask sometimes. "What have you done with Elia of Dorne?"

But at night, they reconciled, always, in the sweetest way, although even then, there was a shadow lying between them: Edric had always been mad about her and very attentive but now, he had become far more skilled and while Elia enjoyed it, she could not help but wonder in whose bed he had learned the things he did to her. Who was the woman - women – who had taught him this? She had thought him dead but he had known that she was alive. She would have waited for him for years if she had known – why had he not?

"Waiting for me?" he asked when she finally asked him. "Do you really think that being in Rhaegar Targaryen's bed and bearing his children was waiting for me? At the time I was well enough to do anything in this regard, I already knew you were wed and bedded, Elia. How is it different?"

It was. She could not say how but it was.

Sometimes, she sat at the deck until the night became too cold and forced her to come back. Cold and biting, even in a nice and warm sea. She remembered the grey sea washing the shores of Dragonstone, how oppressive it was and how icy the sea drops flying in all directions were. She imagined the ship carrying Lyanna Stark there. Lyanna Stark who had lost all colour. Grey and hopeless _. She's used to much colder weather,_ Elia would remind herself. _To her, this one would be perhaps a little cool. And what happens to her is no concern of mine._ Yet, she could not help but wonder how the incessant rocking of the high waves would affect a woman with child. Sending the girl off had been the only way to make sure that her child would be as safe as possible, away from the rebels, but Elia prayed for a safe journey and delivery, and a healthy boy also to divert the attention from her own children .

Still, when they landed at the capital, no rumour of Lyanna appearing at Dragonstone had arrived. The gates of the Red Keep opened in front of her like the gaping mouth of a beast and she walked straight in. Edric did not reach for her hand and she was glad, both for this and his steady presence. This was a road that she needed to walk with resolve and nothing could undermine her resolve more than his touch, for it could induce her to clinging to him and starting to shake. Next to her, her uncle was staring right ahead, stony-faced.

As she passed through courts, galleries, and halls, murmurs of surprise greeted her. Servants bowed and highborn, not quite sure how to behave with her, solved the matter in the simplest way: by pretending not to see her.

They were immediately admitted in the new King's presence. The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard came to fetch them himself, staring somewhere above Elia's left shoulder and carefully avoiding looking at Lewyn. For an unguarded moment, right when he was letting them in, Elia saw the anger on his face and anger rose in her like the flames Aerys was so fond of. The man who had turned his cloak blamed her uncle for not marching off in the Targaryens' defense to the very end! Incredible! But she had little time to spare for Barristan Selmly. She had greater enemies to fight.

Somewhat to her surprise, they were not shown in the throne room and this was a relief. She had only been there a few times but she had always associated with Aerys' hateful ramblings and the smell of burning flesh. Burning living people. When she saw the three men waiting for them in a private chamber, she wondered if the non-use of the throne room had been done for the new Lord Stark's sake. Perhaps he would envision his father and brother's horrifying deaths each time he set a foot in there. Elia knew that in his place, she would have.

The hangings in black and red were already replaced with Baratheon ones; at the walls, the tapestries with scenes from the lives of previous kings had left white marks, quite distinguishable from the surrounding surface of the walls. Lord Commander Selmy looked at the new King and he nodded at him to leave.

The three men in the chamber rose at Elia's entering, a courtesy due to a lady, and bowed their heads. Even Baratheon… For a moment, she felt confused. She had been preparing for the role of a relegated princess assuring the new rulers of her loyalty that coming into the part of a lady did not come to her naturally at all.

She made a deep curtsy as soon as she stepped in, a second one in the centre of the room, and a third one when she came immediately close to the new King. Three pair of eyes followed her every movement and only belatedly came to the realization of what she was doing. The three curtsies were an ancient custom that had never been practiced anywhere but in Dorne and it had long fallen out of favour even there. The sun danced over Elia's lavender gown, made the falling star on her cloak glow and sparkle.

"Elia Martell," the new King said slowly. "What have I missed?"

"I am Elia Dayne now, Your Grace," she replied, forcing level words through a closed throat. "Rhaegar Targaryen discarded me, so I wed again – to the man I was supposed to wed in the first place."

Edric stepped next to her and took her hand. Despite everything, his touch felt like the certainty that he could not offer her.

Baratheon was still very calm. Forcefully and innervingly so. Elia stole a look at the other two men. Eddard Stark's resemblance to his sister filled her with a surge of hatred that the man had done nothing to deserve. He met her eye without flinching, his face hardened and aged and not like the shy boy who had never dared to look at her face or bulging belly at Harrenhall even as they had conversed. War had changed him… but looking her in the eye made something in him stir and he looked away, his shame and guilt obvious. Shame and guilt on the behalf of a sister who felt none… Elia had no focus to waste on him either, so she looked away, to Lord Arryn who was the only one in full control of his emotions. So full that she could not read these emotions at all.

"So, it's true," Robert Baratheon finally said. "He did abandon you for Lyanna."

Elia nodded. "That he did."

"And you had no part in it?" he demanded.

Suddenly, Elia felt an emotion that was extremely inappropriate for the moment. Anger. She had been prepared to prove the wrong that had been done to her, with Rhaegar being so carefully discreet, so willing to put everyone before a deed done. She had not, however, expected having to prove that the wrong and humiliation her fickle husband had heaped upon her _were_ wrong and humiliation. "Yes," she drawled sarcastically, her Dornish accent suddenly clear and purposefully intensified, "being placed in mortal danger and almost dying to give Rhaegar children to discard for your precious wolf girl is something that arouses me, as a Dornishwoman. Of course I had a part in it. I only stood my children's lives and a crown to lose. Nothing this big."

He looked as if she had just hit him with a wet rag right between the eyes. "So he did, indeed, repudiated you without even having the decency to tell you what he had done?" he asked. "This was nowhere in the High Septon's parchments!"

Vaguely, Elia noted that they had gone through the man's documents. They had known. But how? Baratheon noticed her confusion and nodded at the table before him. "Your Arthur Dayne did a good job at informing everyone," he said. "I have to admit it was… hard for me to accept it. But what we found in the High Septon's papers confirmed it… and now you've done the same."

Edric gave a low whistle. "So his missives reached you? All the way through the battlefields?" he asked. "I am astounded."

"May I see this parchment?" Elia asked because it was clear that this was what Baratheon expected of her.

He gave it to her and Elia read it with a thrill that had not faded since the very first moment Arthur had shown it to her, although she had read the words over so many times that she already knew them by heart. She skipped the formal address to Rhaegar and went straight to the core of it.

_You despicable, mad and cowardly abomination,_

_What you did, annulling your marriage and making your children bastards on the basis of an argument that holds true for your so-called second marriage, and namely the fact that Princess Elia Martell was betrothed before you wed her, without any explanation and without even taking care to ensure her safety and the safety of your children, instead letting your father use them to blackmail Dorne without telling anyone that they were no longer your family, is a betrayal to everything good and honest that the two of us have ever wished for Westeros. You threw it all away to get into the good graces of this girl who considered herself too good to be your mistress but pounced on a marriage that you were not free to offer her, the Lyanna Stark made of ice, and in the process dishonoured your lady wife, your children, and the land I come from. And then, you left intending to lie to my countrymen, using their spears to place Lyanna Stark and her children on the Iron Throne. A bad reward for the princess who almost lost her life in the birthing bed to provide you with the children you rejected. But Elia Martell will emerge from this mud unbent, unbowed, unbroken while you stink of the taint that you are._

_I have no idea how I could have ever believed your words of wanting to make things better for Westeros. I must have been blind. But fortunately, now my eyes are open, so farewell from your former friend, former confidante, former Kingsguard_

_Arthur Dayne_

Even now, Elia almost smiled remembering how white Rhaegar's face had gone when he had read the missive. And imagining the faces of lords all over the realm as the truth that the dragon prince had kept so carefully hidden was unveiled before them. Eddard Stark was looking straight ahead, avoiding anyone's eyes, and she had the feeling that he wanted to be anywhere but here.

"Very well," Robert Baratheon said when he saw she was finished. "I don't suppose you have brought your children over here?"

"The bastards?" Elia elaborated. "Indeed, I have not."

"Take a seat. Strong or diluted wine?"

"What?"

He looked at her impatiently. "I asked what wine do you prefer. Take a seat and let's talk. All of us," he added, looking at Edric and Lewyn.

It sounded more like the words of a warlord to his men at-arms than a courteous invitation but Elia did not have much of a choice. She took a seat.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the long delay. As you know, sometimes RL just takes over. Thanks to everyone who commented and well, I hope there aren't any more delays like this one.

Elia declined the wine but accepted a goblet of water. The new King looked surprised. "I suppose you don't want wine to cloud your judgment?" he asked. "With me, it only makes me think more clearly. But you will have your water."

Edric also declined the wine which surprised Robert even more and perhaps made him detest the Dornishman. Undoubtedly, holding one's wine was a sign of masculinity for him. Edric, though, barely tasted any wine, ever, because it was known to trigger his headaches. He took the seat that he was pointed at and Elia wished that it was closer to her own. His very presence gave her courage. Now, she felt terribly alone, with three pair of eyes staring at her: the new King who judged worth by love of wine; Jon Arryn who had not hesitated to declare the war and had been the driving force of the whole rebellion; and the brother of the woman who had had her pushed aside to climb to her place.

"Could Lord Stark leave?" Elia suddenly asked, to her own surprise. "I'd really feel more at ease without him here."

Robert Baratheon stared at her with narrowed eyes. "You are in no position to make demands, Lady Dayne."

"I wasn't," she said. "I just asked. I don't feel comfortable discussing my children's future with him here, considering the part his sister played in shaping it. I think House Stark's participation in this has been active enough already."

She could feel that he wanted to agree. Perhaps he now felt as uncomfortable around his friend as she did. But pride and distrust won over. "He's staying," he said flatly and she nodded.

"As you wish," she replied equally flatly.

Eddard Stark rose, his back stiffened. "Far be it from me to stay where I am not wanted," he said, avoiding to look at the King, who did not try to stop him.

Jon Arryn started to say something, but Lord Stark shook his head. "We'll talk later, Jon," he said and headed for the door. He had already crossed the threshold when he abruptly turned. "Lady Dayne?" he said.

"Yes?" Elia replied, surprised.

"I'm sorry about the way my sister influenced your life."

Her breath caught. He would not look at her but his sincerity could not be doubted. No one apart from her own people had ever thought how the entire horrible sequence of events would influence her. Not the Kingsguard who had only recently left Starfall, still convinced that she should have accepted Rhaegar's wishes as wordlessly as they did. Not the lords fighting on either side. No one but him. Lyanna Stark's brother.

She only nodded because if she tried to reply, she would, to her horror, start weeping.

"It's fairer this way," Robert Baratheon said. "We're two on two now."

She raised an eyebrow, anger coming right back. "Why, Your Grace, I think it's three on two."

"Ah yes," he murmured, a little embarrassed, and Elia wondered if he had such an attitude to women in general, or just the ones sickly from birth and discarded by their husbands in a fashion most humiliating. "I still haven't decided what I ought to do with your children," he announced and she sipped from her goblet to give herself some time.

"Why don't you leave them with me?" she asked and he barked a laugh and looked at her with something like respect.

"And why should I do this?"

"Because a court isn't a nursery," Edric said. "The children are still babes. Who better to raise them than their mother? They will not be brought as enemies to you, I can promise this much."

Robert snorted. "A Dornishman's promise," he spat.

Edric was not impressed. "Am I to understand that your wish is to make the kingdoms six again?" he asked. "If so, say it. My lord, the Prince of Dorne, will be most interested to hear it."

Robert left his goblet on the table with more force than usual and it splashed. No one cared to wipe the small red puddle. 'I am your lord!" he thundered, glaring at Edric as if he wanted to cower him into submission.

"Of course you are," Edric said. "And Dorne is ready to pledge its allegiance to House Baratheon and raise Princess Elia's children as your most loyal subjects."

"Loyal!" Robert huffed.

"Well, whom should they be loyal to?" Elia asked. "Their father? He made them bastards, this severing any ties of affection my son and daughter might have had with House Targaryen."

"This sounds about right," Jon Arryn spoke. "And I don't think you'll be inclined to raise them in love and respect of him, my lady. But you're young. You'll have other children. Would it not be easier on you in time if you leave these two in the care of the Iron Throne, with our pledge that we will always treat them as well as we know how?"

Elia's heart was beating fast. This was the moment she had dreaded. What amazed her most was the fact that he looked so sincere. Even Robert Baratheon's nod seemed sincere. How could they not understand? These were her children, her babes. She would rather die than give them up in the care of a man who had no reason to wish for their wellbeing – even giving them into the safest hands possible would sicken her almost unto death, as she well knew…

"Who do you take me for?" she asked in a voice meant to sound angry and managing only scared. "My former husband who undoubtedly thought it would be easier on him if he left the children in my care – if he even intended this? A lord who spills his seed wherever he pleases without caring about the resulting children? If I can't be sure that their own father would not have given them over to the Faith, how can I be sure in your everlasting good intentions?"

The new King looked mildly uncomfortable and Elia realized that he had likely taken her words as a slight against his own character. Elia, you fool!

"My children are no obstacle for me," she said, softly this time. "And I will raise them as your most loyal subjects. Please."

"This is what you say now, my lady," Lord Arryn said kindly. "But a mother is prone to want the best for her children. How are we to believe that once the fear that has you in its hold now weakens, you will not wish for a throne to give your son? In time, you will get used to live without them – and they will get used to live without you which is what we'll have to do if ambitions takes hold of you. Now, they're young enough to forget and not feel pain but if we have to do it once they're older?"

The cruelty of his kindness made her gag. Lewyn made a sharp movement as if he was about to rise from his chair but Edric shook his head. "Do you share these sentiments as well, Your Grace?" he asked, as sure as Elia was that the new rulers had discussed this in advance.

"Yes," Robert said but he would not look at him and he seemed to make an effort not to give as much as a stir in Elia's direction. Out of the two, he was the one who could be won over and the shock of it made her mind reel. This angry bear of a man was her better chance as opposed to a lord known for his fairness. "And what if I decide not to fulfill her plea?" he demanded, his eyes moving from Edric to Lewyn and then, finally, Elia hereself. "What then?"

This was the sublime moment on everything that had been taking place since the day Edric had come to this same castle with the news of her annulment. The moment that would decide the faith of all of them. Elia tried to fashion her face into an expressionless mask and she had clearly succeeded because Robert Baratheon looked questioningly at Edric.

"This plea was more a courtesy than anything else," Edric said calmly. "Do not forget, Your Grace, that the children are not in the palace now… and they won't be brought here, ever."

"Are you defying me?" The new King's voice was dangerously low.

"That's quite right," Edric confirmed. "Rhaenys and Aegon are in Dorne and they will stay there."

"You think Doran Martell would take the risk of challenging the crown over two lives, as precious as they might be to him? He isn't this mad or irresponsible."

Elia wondered if the man heard himself. Edric stared at him, stunned. And Lewyn just looked from Robert Baratheon to Jon Arryn who suddenly looked uncomfortable. "It was… different," he said.

"How?" Elia demanded. "Except for the fact that my children are far more helpless than your wards, I really see no difference. I can trust your good intentions as much as you could trust Aerys'."

"Let me show you a difference," he snapped. "I did have all the allies and strength that your brother lacks."

Elia wanted to remind him of another differences, like the fact that Mariya Martell had never traded Dorne's independence for a flight on a dragon back and the hard losses the Valley of Arryn had suffered in flesh the last time a king had thought Dorne weak. But it would do her no good. It was not about her pride, so she kept her tongue.

"I think you have another difference in mind as well, Lord Arryn," Edric said coolly. "You think you're better than us. You think your capacity to love is stronger than Prince Doran's. That your affection for your foster sons is far greater than Prince Doran's for his kin. Well, you're wrong, my lord. We hurt the same way. Our princess gives up her children to no one."

Lord Arryn started to reply but the King raised his hand. "Enough about this," he snapped. "I am not a monster, to do harm to children who are in no position to do harm to me… and taking them from a mother who does not wish to be parted from them is such harm."

And it will paint you in a good light with your subjects, Elia thought. Being kind where Rhaegar was cruel. But what did it matter when it meant that her children would be allowed to live? With her. She forced herself to listen to the King's next words attentively. "I place no trust in you, so the children will be educated by maesters and septas chosen by the Crown. At any given time, there will be guard around them, guard that will only answer to the man I have chosen. My uncle Eldon Estermont. I expect that he's going to split his time between Starfall and Greenstone… and of course, he'll strengthen the ties between the stormslands and Dorne. I am sure he'll be delighted to take a bride as lovely as Lady Ashara."

"No," Edric said firmly and although Elia supported him wholeheartedly through his argument with the new people in power, she was painfully aware of the differences between them. She wanted young Aemon Estermont for Ashara, of course she did, but she also knew that she would have never dared brook an objection out of fear for her children. Edric would not have done it either… if the children had been his.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who commented, you were all a great help!

Aemon Estermont arrived in Starfall just a few weeks after Edric and Elia's return – and the best that could be said about him was that he was young. He observed all good manners and was unfailingly polite but the fact that he had more men than belongings did not foretoken an easy co-existence.

"Does he think we're going to start a rebellion to crown Aegon?" Ashara asked angrily as soon as her betrothed made his excuses and went to tour the castle – and the nursery in particular. "Or that we're going to smuggle him out of Starfall to deliver him to his loving father? What?"

"I think," Edric said regretfully, "that I might have done you evil without wanting to. I wanted a young and vigorous husband for you. I'm afraid I didn't take into account that an older one might have less time to waste on suspicions."

"Yes," she agreed, "you might have overestimated my charm. But I think I still prefer him to his father. He's comely enough and with time, he may be… persuaded. "

Elia didn't say anything. Ashara could not do much but hope but Elia had seen the man's face upon seeing her. About as much emotion as a rock, it had shown. Not even the slightest delight at seeing Ashara crossed his face, when he could have at least shown some delight at wedding such a beautiful maiden; with a sinking heart, Elia realized that he likely believed that Ashara was not a maiden. If she could find out who had started this ugly rumour, she would claw their eyes out without waiting for Edric's spear or Arthur's sword! They could have what would be left of him.

Before the second day of the stormslanders' arrival, there were posts of theirs placed all around the castle and Elia ground her teeth each time she as much as crossed the main courtyard – she was always followed! Edric and his father tried to hide their irritation at someone else blatantly taking charge in their castle. Arthur, who had been delighted in his freedom to act outside of his vows, took his leave from Starfall before he did something unrational and Allyria let out a startled cry each time she went out and found herself followed. Really, couldn't they do the counting and see that she was clearly not three-year-old? Not Rhaenys, in other words. No interest to them. Sadly, it seemed that they couldn't. Everyone kept their irritation in and when they could no longer keep it there, they took it out on each other because they could hardly do so on the King's men, in a situation like this one. In a few short weeks, Elia had had more marital discords than in her three years with Rhaegar together. It was a good thing that they always made up in bed.

In this prepossessing atmosphere, the preparations for Ashara's wedding went on, with the man paying her a visit every day and not staying a moment longer than the prescribed half an hour, too busy with his inspections and attempts to make sure that Elia and her new family would not succumb to any temptation to do something unreasonable. The nursemaids taking the children outside looked askance at his men and despite any logic, their fear infected Elia as well, although the first thing Aemon Estermont had done had been to assure her that she and her children were safe.

"It won't go on like this forever," she often said and tried to believe. "Just until we get used to each other."

Ashara would smile in reply but her eyes would stay troubled.

Old Lady Dayne seemed to be the only person who truly delighted in the newcomer's company. "Aemon," she had said, smiling, at their first meeting. "My brother was called Aemon."

To Elia's surprise, it turned out that the man's lips could form a convincing smile; a few days before the wedding, a ship arrived carrying a very special present. Winter oak seeds that Princess Rhae planted in a deep pot, the delight on her face transforming her into a much younger woman; behind the loose skin and the few spots that had come with age, her true beauty showed. How had the Targaryen princess gotten used to this life that was so different? If Rhae had been able to, then it should not be out of reach for Rhaenys and Aegon.

But Rhae belonged to Starfall on a deeper level, her roots were planted here as well as King's Landing. Her mother had been a Dayne while the father of Elia's children… was not.

"Stop obsessing over it," Edric said curtly one night as she sat before her dressing table and he slowly brushed her hair out. "The children will always have a place here. You belong with me and because of this, so do they. Think of this as a gift. Starfall is a bright place that seems made for children and there hasn't been one toddling around since Allyria outgrew this age."

She stared at his reflection. He had recently suffered from one of his splitting headaches and she could feel a dull ache in her own skull as well, so they had only a few candles lit up. Their bedchamber was full of shadows and their play hid his expression from her. Did he know just how much he had lost by not seeing Allyria toddling around? Was he bitter that he would not see children of his own doing this? She clasped his hands and pressed the palms against her face because the very thought of this was unbearable.

* * *

The wedding day came, bright and radiance with sunlight, and imbued with hope which surprised Elia after the last bleak weeks. Even she felt deep emotion and longing, and even joy for Ashara. No matter what, she was getting a husband of prominence, and one who was not ugly, at this. The women in the castle had worked day and night to make her ivory wedding gown, just like they had for Elia. Elia herself had attached the small silvery dots that would make the stars on the cloak look like real and when Rhae clasped a necklace against her granddaughter's throat, everyone gasped.

"These… aren't amethysts, are they?" Ashara's mother asked at last.

"No," her goodmother replied. "Lilac sapphires."

The silver casing was wrought in a way that had been outmoded for many years but it was so elegant and delicate that this particular jewel could never be anything other than flawless or desired. The gems were all perfectly limpid. Ashara slowly turned her back on the mirror and her face, to her grandmother. "This is… I've never seen the like of it! I think only Queen Rhaella owns things this magnificent."

The silence grew heavy. Elia stole a look at the few women from the stormslands who had come to help prepare the bride but although one of them looked outraged, the others seemed understanding of such lapses. Rhaella had been Queen for so long. It would take time.

"I don't think I've ever seen you wear it," Ashara said. "What a shame."

"Because I never did. I didn't even try it when I was presented with it."

"But why?" Lady Amira asked.

Rhae smiled slowly. "It was a guilty gift," she said. "When Jaehaerys and Shaera turned the Reach against our House, my brother had to make great concessions. And of course, they had to come at Dorne's expense. I was no longer welcome for a long stay at his court and my husband was stripped of his office as Master of Ships to have it given to a Redwyne, as well as permission to expand the number of their ships to what is now knows as the Redwyne fleet. Before I left King's Landing, Aegon had this made for me. He knew I loved unusual colouring of my gems – Rhae the Deceiver, my lord father called me – and ordered the most magnificent lilac sapphires to complement my eyes."

"But you never put it on."

Rhae shrugged. "I prefer things that I have received with love. I've worn many of Aegon's gifts on many occasions. But I never knew what to do with this one. I thought of giving it to you." She looked at Lady Amira. "At your wedding. Or to my daughter. But it never felt right. It does now."

The lady of Starfall just smiled. Elia had seen some of the fantastic jewels that she had received from her goodmother – truly things that few men other than royals could afford to give their daughters or sisters. Unbidden, the earrings that Rhaegar had given her upon Rhaenys' birth came to her mind. Rubies, dark as blood and just as flawless as the sapphires here. There had been an official gift as well, of course, but he had given this one to her in the day she had risen from her bed after six endless months. Something just between the two of them. She had put them on each time they matched a gown. She had been wearing them at Harrenhal. For a while, she had truly believed that the two of them could be content with each other. He had looked so besotted with his daughter. Sometimes, she still woke up thinking that it had all been a bad dream. Rhaegar could not have turned Rhaenys and Aegon into bastards. He could not have used them to threaten Dorne into helping him, all the while knowing that he'd discard them for Lyanna Stark's offspring.

Now, she wondered what had happened to the earrings. Had they been abandoned in her chambers in the Red Keep, to be found later and taken by Robert to give to his new betrothed, Lord Tyrell's sister? Or had Rhaella had the presence of mind to take them to Dragonstone? Were they adorning Lyanna Stark's ears now? Elia shook her head. She would not think about this right now. This was Ashara's day.

"And this is for you," Rhae went on, handing her a velvet box as well. A chain of old gold with a single huge amber, almost dark-red, with streaks of gold and white here and there. Elia immediately realized that it had been meant for an olive-skinned woman. On Rhae and other pale-skinned ladies, it looked nice but nothing more; on skin like her own, it would sparkle, all shades burning like flames.

"This is a gift that my grandfather, Daeron the Good, ordered for his wife, Mariah Martell, in their youth. She loved wearing it and I loved playing with it even as a babe, so she left it to me. It's yours now."

Elia smiled, gladdened by the gesture and suddenly insecure at the same time. Ashara and Lady Amira smiled at her. She hesitated. "Are you sure this is for me? The family story is so nice…"

"And who are you, are you not of this family?" Rhae demanded. "You're Edric's _wife_ , my dear. Put it on."

The women from the stormslands looked quite uncomfortable with this Targaryen reminiscencing. Elia saw Rhae's quick smile and knew the old woman was provoking them purposely. "You can rarely win a war by constantly retreating," her father's voice suddenly echoed in her head.

Enough! She had had enough of this humouring King Robert, cowering and being constantly on the alert to not step out of line for a moment, lest she irritated King Robert's man and this way, the King himself. If she went on like this, she would soon turn into a captive in her own new home and her children, even more so. Aemon Estermont had come to live with them and not the other way around. She spontaneously kissed the old lady's cheek. "Thank you," she said as she clasped the pendant on and Allyria eagerly straightened out her sister's overgown – "You're the most beautiful bride I've ever seen, Ashara!" and Elia laughed, knowing that while she was undoubtedly lovely and beautiful above comparison to Edric, she had not made the same dazzling bride.

"Are we ready?" she asked and everyone filed out, headed towards the sept full of everyone of note who could have received the word and made the journey in the short time that they had. Arthur had just arrived and a good thing this was because he would have never heard the end of it if he had missed Ashara's wedding. Doran and Mellario were here while Oberyn had pointedly refused to attend the unnecessary sacrifice of one of Dorne's finest ladies to the stupid fears of the new King – Elia did not doubt that he had used those exact words. King Robert's brother had made the journey and Elia gasped at seeing how gaunt he had become, just a tad better than a walking corpse. By the Seven, what was left of Storm's End after this siege if _the lord_ looked like this? Many of the men who had come bore fresh wounds and glared with disdain at their Dornish counterparts who were mostly intact, as if being pulled out before a battle where a victory would have brought them nothing was a grave crime.

She felt her spirit recover somewhat when she saw how the bridegroom's eyes lit up at the sight of the vision in ivory, violet and silver coming to him as if dancing on a moon path. A moment later, his face became shuttered again but Elia had seen. Scowl all that you want, she thought. Now I know how you truly are. She looked up at Edric and smiled, remembering their own, far lesser-scale wedding. He returned the smile and she thought that there might be something wrong because he was… no, she was mistaken. He looked just as usual.

Turned out, she had not been mistaken. As soon as they left the great hall where the feast had finally started getting quieter and entered their own chambers, he told her that in the early morning, ravens had arrived. Rhaegar had left Dragonstone, avoiding the fleet that had been coming to lay siege by mere hours. "Robert Baratheon is furious. Claims that he'll have his brother's head for this. He thinks that if Stannis had assumed command, the ships would have reached Dragonstone in time…"

Elia shook her head, amazed by the man's willingness to always find a villain. Sometimes, things just happened and no one was to blame. This was their new king? But why not? They had put up with Aerys, _Aerys_ for years. But a moment later, something more serious occurred to her and the Baratheon brothers fled her mind. "How is Rhaella?" she asked urgently. "Don't tell me that he dragged her aboard a ship in her state?" But what else could he have done? Leave her for Robert's fleet to find?

Edric did not reply at once. Instead, he looked away and Elia stared at him, not understanding, not wishing to understand. Then, she started weeping. It was over. After cheating the Stranger so many times in the birthing bed, Rhaella had finally found herself facing him – and losing. Even in death, Aerys had managed to get his revenge on his hated sister-wife. Aerys, Aerys, Aerys! She wanted to scream, so she brought her hand to her mouth and bit hard. Blood gushed through cuts that had almost torn skin off and she lifted the other hand, wanting this pain, this relief. But Edric would not let her, grabbing her hands and keeping them immobile. Then, wishing to say it all and be done with it, he went on, "Her babe was born alive and healthy, they say. Daenerys, she named her, much to Rhaegar's displeasure. Lyanna Stark refused to leave and demanded that she and her babe be left in the castle, so she could meet the rebels and return to her brother but after a few minutes of conversation with Rhaegar behind closed doors, a nursemaid took the babe out and onto the ship and Lyanna followed obediently…"

_Have they drifted apart this far,_ Elia wondered in a blur but while in other circumstances, she might have gloated, she now did not give Rhaegar or the girl another thought. She wept for kind Rhaella and tried to believe that the other violet-haired bride, the one downstairs, would have a better fate.

Ashara Dayne and Aemon Estermont's first marital discord raged this same night and became known to all who had not passed out drunk in the night castle where the only other sound was the soft splash of the Torentine.

 


	8. Chapter 8

Elia's first reaction was anger. "No," she said flatly. "I'm not going."

Edric's hands stopped on her hair, the silver brush still in his hands. "Let's talk about it later, shall we?"

"There's nothing to talk about," Elia snapped. "I'm not going and that's it!"

Had Edric been in better state of mind, he might have left this one unanswered. Elia would go. After all, what other choice did she have? But he had had hard time dealing with the recent unexplained pollution of the Torrentine which had turned the Starfall shores into a land of dead fish and badly influenced the fishing villages. New men had arrived from King's Landing insisting on reexamining some of the conditions about Dorne joining the realm a hundred years ago and like everyone else, the Daynes were not happy. In the aftermath of the change of dynasty, brigands had abounded on both sides of the Dornish Marches, with each side blaming the other one. His headaches had started coming increasingly often and with increasing strength. He was not in the right mood to indulge Elia's pride", as hurt as it was. "In case you haven't noticed," he said, "this is the wedding of the King to whom you swore allegiance not so long ago. You even received a personal invitation. Everyone of importance will be there, both rebels like Eddard Stark and loyalists like the future Queen's kin… and you."

Elia turned back to look at him without saying anything. In a few hours, she might give the matter another thought but right now, it was simply not possible. She had been supposed to be the Queen one day and she had seen it slip from her twice over, first for Lyanna Stark and now for Mina Tyrell. It was too much for any lady to bear… without flinching.

"Let's go to bed," she said, although she knew that tonight, he'd be of no use to her in this regard. Or rather, he could only make it better by holding her. They were both too tired for anything else. They could sleep all night and day long…

* * *

When they were roused by their sleep, the marked candle showed that only one hour had passed since their going to bed. Elia stumbled down corridors that had suddenly become much longer than she remembered them, wondering what had gotten into Oberyn to summon them this way. At least he could have done them the courtesy to come to their chambers, instead of sending for them! Next to her, Edric murmured, "If this is the time he's chosen to let us know he's leaving for Sothyros, I will…"

But it turned out that Oberyn was not the brother who had summoned them to his chambers, although he was in attendance all right. Doran didn't bother to rise from his seat. The dark shadows spreading under his eyes positively looked like bags now.

"Well," Arthur said from the window where he was staring out into the darkness. "They're here now. May we summon him already?"

"You look embarrassingly enthused to meet your onetime brother and hear about all Rhaegar has been up to," Oberyn said. "Could it be that you're having second thoughts now and serving the Targaryens once again has become more enticing than Lady Myriah's charms?"

"Oh, do shut up!" Arthur snapped. "I mean, sully me all you want but don't you dare bring Myriah in this! I… oh why do I even pay any attention to you, I don't know."

Once, the tremendous differences between Arthur and Oberyn in almost everything had been offset by the things that had brought them together. Elia hoped that one day, the good things would prevail but this far, there was no indication of this happening.

"What's going on?" she asked. "Rhaegar has sent someone? A Kingsguard?" To her shame, she felt the rising of panic. Undoubtedly, this was because of the late hour and the fact that they had gathered here in semi-darkness like a bunch of traitors but even so, Elia had to remind her that in her brother's castle, in the main city of Dorne, she was safe. The shadows rising from the changing play of lights resembled uncannily the rising and crawling of a court moved only by the whims of a madman. She looked at Arthur and wondered if he felt it too. Was this why he kept his face turned away?

"Ser Oswell," Doran replied. "I have to admit that I was quite shocked when Hotah told me that he asked for an audience. I even asked Ser Arthur to identify him."

"He did?" For a moment of madness, Elia wondered if Arthur had given himself to another betrayal. Even Rhaegar could not be this mad… well, she had once thought the same about Aerys.

Caution was her friend, though, so she appreciated the fact that there was nothing noteworthy about Set Oswell Whent's entrance. By the Seven, it really was Ser Oswell. He looked wary as he bowed to Doran and in the way he avoided meeting her eye as soon as he realized she was in the hall made her think he looked ashamed. Uncharitably, she wondered if it would have been the case if Rhaegar had not been asking something from her House.

"I thought I'd be talking to you alone, Prince Doran," he said and Doran raised an eyebrow.

"Was this your master's order? Not so long ago, Rhaegar Targaryen considered everything between himself and Dorne my sister's business. I understand he's doing his best to forget that he has two children here that he treated monstrously but this is no reason for me to learn by his example… and you can quote me word for word. Elia is staying."

"My offer was meant for your ears alone," the Kingsguard insisted and Elia smiled disdainfully when she realized that _Doran's ears alone_ clearly meant _not in Elia's hearing_. The man certainly was not disturbed by Oberyn and even Arthur's presence, although she had seen him give Arthur more than one secret look of intense dislike that Arthur returned heartily. Only Elia and Edric made him feel uncomfortable.

"This is very unfortunate," Doran said. "I'm sorry that you've traveled so far to no avail but…"

"Don't waste your regrets," Elia said sharply. "Ser Oswell is well accustomed to span long distances no matter where Rhaegar's will sends him. He'll be fine."

"Indeed," her brother agreed. "So, we're done here."

"Wait for a moment," Ser Oswell said when Areo Hotah approached to escort him outside. Next to the breadth of Hotah's shoulders, Oswell looked like a green boy. Hotah could put all men Elia had seen to shame.

Doran nodded and Ser Oswell drew a deep breath and started again. "My lord, the Prince of Dragonstone, regret the sad circumstances that drew a divide between Dorne and himself."

Elia's mouth fell and Edric cursed under his breath. Even Doran looked stunned by the Rhaegar's gall but he did not interrupt. Ser Oswell went on, as if he was eager to say it and put an end to this humiliation. "Now, in the trials that he faces, he remembers the greatness that Westeros achieved once with Dorne's peace and later inclusion in the realm."

_I doubt that he thought about this as he fucked his Northern thing_ , Elia thought and actually felt regret for Ser Oswell for being forced to repeat such nonsense.

"For the good of Westeros, the men who usurped the Crown and the realm should be put in their place."

"And good King Aerys restored on his throne?" Doran asked pleasantly. "Is this what Rhaegar Targaryen aspires to our help now?"

The Kingsguard shook his head. "It's more… complicated. But I assure you he fully intends to remedy the insult he involuntarily gave Dorne and House Martell."

"Would he have still intended it if he had won?" Oberyn put in. "Why, oh why do I doubt it?"

"House Targaryen still has allies," Oswell said and Doran huffed.

"Allies? What allies? Second-tier Houses, or has he fallen onto third? Because even House Tyrell is preparing to celebrate the peak of their might, with a marriage. When House Targaryen refused them one, I might add. Prince Rhaegar's grandparents were as eager to give insults and break word as he himself is."

"There is still support and…"

"Not unless your master somehow manages to convince Eddard Stark to turn his back on his friend and throw his support behind his sister's so called husband, there isn't."

Ser Oswell blushed.

"So, what does he offer in exchange for our help?" Oberyn asked, giving voice to Elia's own curiosity.

"A throne. Lady Rhaenys will be wed to his heir and…"

Elia jumped to her feet and extended a shaking hand towards him. With voice made hoarse and animalistic by horror, disgust, and disbelief, she snapped, "Off! Off with you!"

Doran, though, kept his composure. "So, how does he guarantee that he'd keep his word after he's done using Dorne's spears?" he inquired mildly. "He'd give us his word that he won't break his word? It would be useless. We know how much his word is worth. And his son gives us even less reason to be trusting. The boy is his father _and_ mother's son. How do we know he won't throw my niece away after he decides that she's of no use to him anymore, like Rhaegar Targaryen did to Elia after ruining her health to get heirs from her, only to bastardize them? How is the Faith supposed to accept a bastard queen anyway?"

Ser Oswell's flush deepened. It was clear that he wished to be anywhere but here. "They will keep their word," he said. "Princess Rhaenys will be Queen."

_At her brother's expense_ , Elia thought, her anger so fierce that she imagined it as an extension of the fire in the fireplace. Another flame. Did Rhaegar think they would fall at his feet out of gratitude for this, even if they believed in his integrity? For which time?

"You mean Rhaenys Sand, I suppose?" Edric asked. "Since when did she become Princess Rhaenys? What does Queen Lyanna have to say about this sudden demotion to Lyanna the Whore?"

Oswell looked really lost in the conundrum that his mission had put him in, Elia noticed with satisfaction. Doran looked at her and she shook her head no. He nodded, visibly relieved.

"I'm afraid out answer is no. It won't change," he said. "We're no more eager to fight for Lyanna Stark and her son than we were the last time and I can't imagine what might have made Rhaegar think we have reconsidered."

"Perhaps you'll have some better luck with Lord Stark," Edric said in mocking reassurance and his hand squeezed Elia's as she once again came to realize just how little value Rhaegar put on his family with her if he was willing to send a man to House Martell when everyone knew that they were not trusted and how precarious was the situation that her children inhabited.

She'd better start picking some outfits for the journey. She had a royal wedding to attend, it seemed.

* * *

The impossible happened. Peace. Once, Elia had thought she would never know it but now, she discovered the beauty of it every day – in the sun of her own land, in the blue waves chasing waves, in the song of the Torrentine and the sleepy smiles of her children as she entered the nursery every night to say good night. In Edric's eyes as he looked at her from the other side of a board game or raised the oar of the small boat that took them up and up the Torrentine. Sometimes, they picked Larra from Blackmont, together with her husband, and the four of them traveled further up, to the very source of the fierce river and drops of sweet water sparkled like diamonds on dark hair and olive skin.

Arthur and Myriah visited often and then, rowing upstream often turned into a competition of three boats driven by three men. Four when Aemon Estermont and Ashara had a mind to accompany them. The stormlander was a man of few words but Mother, he knew how to put his strength to action! In the beginning, she had been afraid that he would use this against Ashara…

"No," her friend assured her. "He never does. He prefers to go all silent and sullen. I've never heard him raise his voice at me since the morning he found out I _had_ been a maiden."

Elia had spent her own wedding night in quiet horror that Rhaegar would accuse her straight to her face. It had been a great relief, albeit puzzling, to find out that he was, in fact, unable to tell a maiden from a woman who had given birth. Ashara, on the other hand, had never expected to be accused for keeping her maidenhood despite the filthy rumours clinging to her like her own smallclothes… no, for not telling her lord husband to be that she did not deserve the scorn that he had been holding in.

"If a woman is not punished for not being a maiden, then she's punished because she is," had been Lady Amira's concise comment when her daughter had shared, stunned. She had expected that Aemon would be at least glad. Instead, their row had raged for full two days, the first ones of their marriage.

This wedding was widely regarded as one meant to mend the rift but the ones who followed achieved it even more – without trying to! Elia watched with delight as the unwed men who had come with Aemon Estermont wed Dornish women, to the very last one, and while some of them professed intention to stay true to their lord's purpose of guardian and leave when he did, most of their children bore Dornish names and received Dornish upbringing. And the strict surveillance over Elia and her children slowly lost its edge.

Elia even had Ashara close by, held her hand as she writhed in the birthing bed like Ashara had held hers, rocked her babe to sleep like Ashara had done with hers, and felt that moments like these were as close to perfection as she could wish, even when her womb clenched with the longing to feel a living creature inside. Edric and hers. And it was not happening.

"Perhaps the fault lies with me," he told her in their third year as he watched her watching Ashara's bulging belly. "You cannot know."

Elia stared at him, the irony hitting her worse than Aerys ever had. "I am one of the few who _do_ know," she said. "I won't shift the blame for my barrenness onto you, Edric."

The words came out by sheer instinct, her horror of letting anyone else – him, of all people – to shoulder the burden instead of her overwhelming. She had been so careful not to give us as much as a hint but now, she had all but laid it all out.

One look at him showed her that she needed not to say anything else. He and Arthur had been born with only two years between them and Ashara had followed a few years later. More than fifteen years had elapsed before Allyria's birth, just eight moons after the river had carried him downstream. He must have wondered… Perhaps he had seen something – an expression, a gesture inherited, or the sad envy in Elia's eyes whenever Allyria rushed to Lady Amira with eager face. Now, he held her tight, burying his face in her hair. "Thank you," he breathed.

The next morning, Elia woke before dawn and watched the sun rise. People said that hope came with the light but what she felt was not hope; it was certainty, as rich as the rising rays of sun, and as tremendous as the sea that for a brief, glorious moment they turned into a realm of gold. She knew it deep within her core, could feel it with her very skin and the feeling of being useless and lacking disappeared, as if it had never been there.

Elia already knew that she was with child.

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who left a comment, each one of you has been a great help!

Elia's gift caused a good deal of raised eyebrows and whispers among the Queen's ladies. Mina herself looked surprised but when, later, she clenched here throat and lips with the utmost effort and Elia pushed at her some lemon slices, cold and bitter, the first thing she asked after the nausea passed, was, "Could you send me another chest of these?"

"As it happens, I can," Elia replied and the chamber full of women who had all suffered while carrying their children started whispering. The Queen gave Elia a considering look.

"I wish I had known about these when I was carrying Ormund," she said. "We have lemons in the Reach, of course, but only the most southern parts – and we don't always manage to keep them well protected in winter. I've never heard that they could be used to lessen nausea when expecting."

Elia reached for her own plate and the Queen's ladies watched with horror and fascination how she took a slice without sweetening it with even a drop of honey. "I took a pot with a lemon tree with me at Dragonstone," she said. "It died before it could ever produce any fruit."

The women grew quiet at this casual mentioning of her time as the then Crown Prince's wife. Mina looked at her thoughtfully once again and Lady Olenna huffed without bothering to hide her distaste. Elia was expected to grovel at everyone's feet there and hope that they had forgotten about her unfortunate first marriage and she wasn't playing according to the script. _That's what can be expected in a court where women have no open power_ , she thought. She was actually better received by the King and his men… although she could not find any fault with Mina.

"But you managed to give birth to such a lovely little girl," the Queen said pleasantly. "I've never seen such deep black eyes and long eyelashes."

Elia bristled, not sure where the blow would come from. Lady Olenna huffed. "Do you have to waste our time with praises of a girl of twelve?"

The Queen of Thorns indeed! Elia would have been mortified if her own mother had treated her like this in public but Mina only smiled. "You're always welcome to find some more interesting things to do, Lady Mother. I wouldn't want to keep you against your will. In fact, I'd love to keep my conversation with Lady Dayne on motherly themes going, so you can all feel free to go."

The dismissal was clear and Olenna was the last who obeyed, with a last glare. Elia wondered what was going on.

Mina spread a little honey onto a slice of lemon and bit at it. "Delicious," she said and looked up at Elia. "You should come at court more often, Lady Dayne," she said. "It's a pleasure for us to receive you."

"Perhaps we will," Elia said. "But you know how it is with small children."

Mina grimaced. "I am not fond of processions with Ormund insude my wheelhouse, so yes, I understand. Is this the reason you left your two youngest ones home?"

Why this interest all of a sudden? "At seven, they're too young to appreciate the court," she said neutrally.

"But Rhaenys seems to have taken to it like a fish to water." Mina sipped from her wine. "The more I see of her, the more hopeful I am that she'll make a good queen if you so choose."

Elia's hand froze on her goblet and she relaxed it only with the utmost effort. "How so?"

"By wedding Ormund when they both come of age, of course," Mina said easily. "That's something that the King and I have discussed extensively."

_And Lord Arryn?_ Elia wondered. The Hand of the King seemed to have retained Robert's affection but there was little doubt as to who commanded the court. Robert Baratheon was in love with all pretty women, his own queen included, but she had managed to affirm some influence that differentiated her from his flames – more influence than Elia had realized, it seemed.

"How?" Elia asked. "What kind of prince marries a bastard?"

"The one who wants to rule over a united realm," Mina replied without missing a beat. "The King was more inclined towards Sansa Stark but Lord Stannis and I have a better look at the danger of new estrangement between the Reach, the stormslands, and Dorne."

Mina Tyrell and Stannis Baratheon reaching an agreement! Elia picked her jaw from the floor but could not stop staring at the tiny woman in amazement. And then, her mind started working. Of course! There had been certain overtures from the Reach that could end up with Garlan Tyrell being chosen as a husband for her niece Arianne. She could well imagine that neither the Queen nor the Master of Ships were pleased with Jon Arryn's influence; they did not need to contend with Eddard Stark as well which would inevitably happen if his daughter became the Crown Prince's betrothed. And with the rumours that in Essos, Rhaegar had not yet given up the hope to return and claim back the throne in his still imprisoned father's name, there was a certain cold logic in using Rhaenys against him. Fighting against Robert would mean taking his daughter down as well. Elia had little doubts that he would do it without thinking twice, just like he had made their daughter a bastard and then used her to force Dorne to fight for him and Lyanna Stark. Of course, Robert Baratheon – or rather, Mina and Stannis – knew it well. But it would make Robert look better in binding the wounds and Rhaegar even worse in showing that he was ready to truly destroy his daughter in the name of his ambition.

"I know you want this rapport as well," the Queen went on smoothly. "Else, you would not have betrothed Lady Allyria to the young Dondarrion. A peace that had long been meant to take place. Let's hope that this girl has a better fate than the other Dondarrion bride, Lady Aurelia. The Sad Lady, she was called, I believe?"

Only the strength of Elia's will helped her not to clench her fists. Mina had no way to know. No way. To the world, Allyria was Lady Amira's daughter. Nothing could prove otherwise and rumours were not proofs. Surely neither the Iron Throne nor Storm's End would try to end her betrothal?

Fear, hope, and helplessness fought a vicious battle within her. She did not want to leave Rhaenys here, as the Queen would undoubtedly want, did not wish to turn her into a symbol against a man who did not care enough for her. But could she really refuse without raising suspicions that she still sought an accord with Rhaegar? Could she endanger Dorne's standing? Allyria's match?

"I need to discuss it with my husband," she managed to say calmly enough, although she knew what Edric would say. There was only one reasonable thing they could do in this situation. The memories of her own betrothal to Rhaenys' father, when she had been weeping for Edric and her babe and wishing for nothing and no one, a throne and the man who went along with it least of all, rose, as bitter as the thought of Rhaenys' match. As bitter as a slice or unsweetened lemon, and not nearly this refreshing.

* * *

_A few years later…_

Elia loved busy cities. Busy children, not so much. Especially when they were her own. And restless. "Mother, please."

"No, Aegon," she replied wearily. "The three of you don't get to wander down the streets on your own – and don't tell me that you'll have guards. Was it in Lys when you managed to slip away from them?"

Her son looked down and at least had the decency to look ashamed. Just look, though. And not for long, at this. "We'll be as good as gold!" he promised and Dyanna and Ulrick started nodding along. They probably even believed it, Elia thought as she stared at them. Alas, she knew them only too well. A look at the two Baratheon guards walking behind them let her know that no one was willing to put any faith in her offspring's good intentions. Even the maidservant who accompanied them with a basket looked away – and one of the men looked at her as if he actually hoped that the woman would gladly take what was a squadron of men's task.

Around them, busy crowds passed and pushed them from all sides. Life in Pentos made little accommodations for a Westerosi lady with a gaggle of children and unwilling guards. The white square building of the covered market glistened before her, the stalls peeking through the open doors, reminded her of the markets in Sunspear and strangely, Baelor's Sept. She wanted to buy some newly developed spices and also, she had heard of a shop that sold Myrish silks better than the ones sold in Myr itself. But more than anything, she wanted to walk among people. During the months of their travel, she had come to realize that one could feel much of the spirit of a city by walking its markets.

"I'm sure Edric would have let us have a walk on our own," Aegon muttered.

"Why don't you ask him when we meet him?" Elia asked.

That shut her son right up for a while.

Before they could truly rebel, she entrusted them to the guards. "Be careful, though," she warned. "Aegon, don't you leave them out of your sight. If any of the three of you gets involved in a trouble, you'll be the one I hold responsible."

"Not fair!" Aegon said indignantly.

Elia was not moved. "Then, you can all stay with me."

She could see how his twelve-year-old mind worked, saw the moment he decided that unwanted responsibility was still better than trailing along his mother. "I'll look after them," he said sullenly and even stopped the seven-year-old twins from bolting down the street as soon as they heard his assent.

Elia and the maidservant headed for the market. Elia did not need to look back to know that one of the Baratheon guards was following her while the other had gone with Aegon. It was strange how accustomed she had become to so many things. If she found herself not being trailed out of any confines, she felt as something was amiss.

The early morning still left some pale trace of freshness clinging to the dry hotness of the day. Elia wondered why the air here was so different from the air at Starfall and Sunspear, or even the other Essosi ports. A sea city was a sea city was a sea city, right? But this one was too dry. It was not unpleasant but it was different.

The white building awaited her, full of smells and colours. Elia loved the Essosi cities and the fact that no one knew or cared about Westeros. No one cared about her. No one even knew who she was. Here, she could indulge in haggling over the price of a wool that was certainly dyed with plum and would fade as soon as it was washed, choose some irregularly shaped silver bracelets and anklets, buy a hot cake full of cheese and spices and start eating it as it still steamed… From time to time, her thought flew to the three troublemakers that she had let on the loose and she comforted herself with the thought that it was the guards holding the purse.

She enjoyed this journey that Edric had promised her when it looked that the spring winds would never end. She had traveled too little just for pleasure and rarely, out of Dorne. She wished she could have taken Rhaenys with them but her daughter lived at King's Landing now and was rarely allowed even to Starfall. Elia compensated by buying things for her obsessively – Edric jested that the ship would need another hold to contain the presents and he was not far off the mark. Even today, most of the things that she had chosen were for Rhaenys, although she was careful not to miss the purchases to be added to Allyria's dowry. But with Allyria, she was in constant need to measure every gesture of affection, not look too concerned. She had no such troubles with Rhaenys.

When she left the covered market, she looked at the sky and was surprised to see how high the sky had come. She had arranged to meet Edric here at noon and she had ordered the guards to bring the children on time as well. But she still had an hour or two and she sat on the pedestal of the first statue she saw to eat her cake. A small kitten came forward and sat at her feet; sighing, she gave it half of her breakfast and thought about Rhaenys and her love for cats.

The maidservant gasped and Elia looked up. The shock jolted her and propelled her on her feet as she found herself face to face with Rhaegar Targaryen.

Good manners were so deeply seated within her that she almost said, _Good morning_. She almost said, _Good Morning_! She did not know how she stopped herself. He stared back, just as shocked.

"What are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here?" Elia shot back. The guard stepped forward and she glanced at him." This is Rhaegar Targaryen," she said curtly before looking back at the man in question. "Look, you're placing both me and this good man here in an awkward situation, so I'm leaving."

She tried to make good at her word but Rhaegar's hand shot out and grabbed her. Unfortunately, he was just as strong as she remembered. "Let me go," she snapped.

"Let her go," the burly guard said and Rhaegar did – out of surprise more than anything else.

"So you have his guards taking care of you now?" he asked, stunned.

"I have his guards following me everywhere, just in case I try to do something stupid, like conspire against the Iron Throne or something," Elia snapped. "But yes, it looks like… they're taking care of me as well," she finished, taken aback.

"I thought I saw a Baratheon livery earlier this day," Rhaegar said; annoyed, Elia thought that he could have at least changed, grown fat or at least bald! Instead, he looked like a Pentoshi magister, rich robes and all. At least he looked as bewildered as her and did not make much more sense than her. "I asked you what you were doing here!" he said again, his tone sharper.

"Why, I'm having a leisure trip with my husband and famiy," Elia said coldly, gaining back her footing. "What about you? Begging your bread from the magisters?"

Alas, he did not retaliate. He did not even looked like he had noticed her barb. "I saw a Baratheon livery a while back," he said slowly. "And a silver-haired boy playing tag with two other children…"

He looked so moved that her hand itched to slap him. "Yes," she said curtly. "This was Aegon, I suppose."

He looked like she _had_ slapped him. "And you… you let him romp about in the streets of Pentos just like this, as if he's the son of a common tradesman?"

The guard took his meaning before Elia did; he spat on the ground before Elia could find her voice again. "You pushed him lower than the son of a common tradesman! You'd better not forget this, Rhaegar!"

Something flickered across his face and disappeared before she could realize what it was. Not that she cared.

"I haven't forgotten," he said, very softly. "It was a mistake, Elia."

All of a sudden, her fury mounted. How dared he bother her with his mistakes or whatever? When she had told him that she had a man spying on every word they exchanged right here? That Rhaegar did not care what his supposed confessions would bring her, she could understand. But this could cost their son his very freedom.

Then again, Rhaegar would have gladly left this same son in his mad father's hands while lying to the world that Aegon was still his heir to win the throne for Lyanna Stark's offspring – with Dorne's help!

"I'm not interested in discussing this further," she said icily. "Go back to the hole you crawled out of and leave me and my children alone. I'll…"

Their eyes locked in an angry battle. Elia was ready to yield because what did her pride matter when her children's future was in the line when Dyanna bumped into her mid-run, almost knocking her down.

"Mother! Lady Mother, come quickly!"

Rhaegar's jaw dropped. Elia noticed it passingly because her attention was focused on her daughter entirely. "What? Who?"

"Aegon!" the girl cried out, already running back.

Elia followed, cursing herself for letting motherly indulgence overcome her sound judgment. The maidservant and the guard, all used to Aegon's antics, did not waste time with questions either.

After a brief hesitation, Rhaegar followed and she did not have the time to tell him off right now.

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who commented, you were all a tremendous help!

Rhaegar made himself useful but alas, Elia had no time to acknowledge this right now. Two men opened a path for her better than one and she vaguely realized that Rhaegar was quite good at elbowing his way through a crowd now. For a man who had spent twenty-four years with every path and road cleared broad and vast before him, it was not bad at all. She could swear that she even heard him spatting an obscenity at someone without one spat back previously at him. The three of them – and Dyanna – went across the square pretty fast. At one point, Rhaegar reached for the girl's hand to help her walk faster but she avoided his hand and latched herself onto the guard's hand instead. The Baratheon guard. The realization that to her daughter, these men were not enemies and spies but a part of her life stunned Elia but before she could ponder on this, they reached the scene that Dyanna had run from.

Of course Aegon had to raise hell in the middle of a square. He simply had to. Elia looked wildly around this sea of silver heads and her heart went faint with relief when she recognized him: he was standing in the middle of a circle of laughing, shouting men, so close to one of the smaller fountains that splashes of water pasted his hair to his skull. A man in rich robes glared at him, tapping on the hilt of his sword impatienty. Elia immediately recognized his intention: he was about to use the weapon as a rod. Unfortunately, her son either did not know or did not care. Another look showed her that Ulrick was just where she expected to find him: not far from Aegon, embroiled in an argument of his own. With a grown man as well. Naturally! Aegon tended to embroil himself in the most ridiculous adventures, as Edric put it, or sheer silliness, as was Elia's preferred wording. And where Aegon was, Ulrick couldn't not follow. And here they were.

She vaguely realized that Rhaegar had stopped dead in his tracks next to her. When she glanced at him, he was looking at their son as intently as every father who had not seen his child for long. Elia hated him even more for this because he had no right, _no_ right!

"I am taking the kittens," Aegon said as loudly and imperiously as if he were in Starfall. "I saw them first and he took my money."

"You can take your money back," the man in the velvet robes replied. "Or not. If you don't stop strutting like a turkey-cock, I may reconsider. You're starting to annoy me. Take this mite and go away before I've the mind to whip your buttocks with this."

"I'm no mite!" Ulrick put in, indignant.

"I won't," Aegon declared stubbornly. "I bought these kittens for my sister and I got here first. You're just too late."

Kittens? Elia looked around and sure enough, the contested property was there, in a basket that shook in Ulrick's hands.

Kittens?

"I'm breaking off the deal," a man from a nearby stall called out and when Elia looked in his direction, her eyes went wide and wandering at the sight of the selection exposed in stalls near his main one: dogs, cats, some snakes, a few birds that resembled parrots but were not… The cats were not… quite cats. In fact, neither of his animals were.

"You can't," Aegon declared and the men around burst out in another bout of laughter. Elia noticed that Ulrick made use of the fact that _his_ opponent was busy laughing and was quietly making his escape. With the kittens.

The seller tried to push some coins onto Aegon but the boy would simply not open his hand. The laughter intensified. Quarrels rose, some supporting the seller and others, the boy. Elia knew that the man in the rich robe must have made a vastly overwhelming effort right in the wake of her sons paying for the basket. Of course the seller would rather take his money… There were also bets just when the rich buyer would start whipping the boys with his sword.

"Stop!" someone barked. "Where do you think you're going?" An arm was raised in the air, a hand bearing down to slap the escaping Ulrick.

Elia stopped it in the air in less than a half-breath later, right before it hit her son. She had moved without thinking and just stood there, looking from the man's stunned face to his palm, still in the grip of her own. She had grasped it so tight that there was blood trickling under her nails.

Rhaegar quickly stepped forward before the man could realize the truth about his situation and push her back. He was so sturdy that Elia was bound to fall flat on her back. The sharp voice of the Baratheon guard behind her told her that the man was trying to gather her sons to him.

"Not without Rhaenys' kittens!" Aegon protested and Elia stifled a groan. Rhaegar turned to look behind them.

"Are they looking for the damned kittens?" he asked, incredulous.

"Yes, most likely," Elia said. In the commotion, Ulrick had likely dropped the basket and the kittens were trying to make their escape. "I'm buying them," she added. "I'm giving three times the price my son offered," she said and looked at Galena, only to have the maidservant turn white as she desperately fumbled with her pockets. "Have you lost the purse, Galena?" she asked, quite calmly, and the laughter started anew.

She had just reconciled herself with the necessity of turning to Rhaegar for help when, to her great relief, Edric asked from her left, "Do you need some money, my lady?"

She nodded, watching with rising concern as her three children were darting here and there. Chasing the kittens, of course. She just knew that they would not…

"What did I just buy?" Edric asked.

"A basket of kittens that have just escaped," she replied pedantically and he sighed.

"I knew they were up to something as soon as I heard that there were some well-clad boys creating problems. They could only be ours."

But the tide had turned in their favour. Edric was accompanied by three men of esteem, as it seemed, with swords that they held their hands on meaningfully. The Baratheon guard following him was here which made Elia wonder where her children had lost theirs. They had to find him as well… if he did not speak the language, it was not sure that he would find them…

By the Seven! Had she started taking care of the _guards_?

Edric had now caught Aegon's eye. "What did I tell you?" he asked evenly.

Aegon blushed. "These were a present for Rhaenys!" he protested.

For a moment, Edric's face softened but when he spoke, his face was just as even as before. "Rhaenys would rather prefer the two of you alive and well, I'm sure. We're going out of here. Now. With whatever number of kittens the three of you have managed to retrieve!"

Aegon raised his chin. "You should not give me orders," he announced. "You aren't my father."

This argument had never managed to defeat Edric before and it did not do so now. Instead, he stared hard at Aegon. "But here is your father," he said. "And I'm quite sure he's going to tell you the same thing. Should we ask him?"

As angry as Elia was for his brutal way of introducing the truth to Aegon, she could not deny that it was helpful: Aegon slowly shook his head. "No," he said.

Edric nodded. "Very well. Let's get out of here. You two as well!" he snapped because it clearly innerved him to watch Ulrick's attempts to catch the last kitten as Dyanna kept the other ones in the basket.

It chilled Elia to consider the probability that Robert Baratheon's constant watch on them had basically made her children unable to get the feeling of danger. The men spied on them – but they also protected them. The very fact that they were never unattended made them overly bold since the worst thing they had ever had to encounter had been their parents' ire. The twins were still very young but Aegon did not know any better either. Suddenly, Elia wondered if she should not have let the two men have their way with her sons… to some extent.

The pitiful mewling coming from the basket got her nerves on edge but she had more important question to ask. She looked at Edric – and saw how one of his companions grinned. "It was always interesting around you, Westerosi," he said, addressing Edric. "And this is no exception. I'm sorry, my lady," he said as an afterthought, looking at Elia.

"It's nothing," she replied and looked at Rhaegar. "Thank you," she said reluctantly because after all these years, she still railed at the thought of ever being beholden to him for anything.

He nodded, clearly deciding not to push her right now. Elia stole a look at Aegon but her son was walking by Edric's side, scrupulously refusing to glance at his father.

"Why are you here?" she finally asked, turning to her husband. "It's still morning."

Edric pressed his lips together, hesitated, and replied, "Because, as you know, I had some friends to visit here and they told me some… interesting things. I had to find you and Aegon before things got out of control."

Elia bristled. He could only refer to one thing. They had been so happy this morning when they had parted. "Him?" she asked, lowering his voice, not quite looking at Rhaegar.

"Hush now," her husband replied. "Aegon, you too," he added without looking at the boy but knowing that Aegon had opened his mouth.

Elia stared at the brick tower ahead of them, rising taller with every step they made, and wondered what they should do now. The kittens finally quieted down, leaving some blessed quiet, only broken by the usual street noises that, thankfully, had nothing to do with them.

"I need to talk to you," Rhaegar told her, ignoring the presence of everyone else, and Elia's gratitude evaporated. It seemed that he had developed some street smarts about him after the last time they had seen each other. Could he not see that he was placing her in untenable situation? A danger for her entire family?

"No," she replied curtly and to her relief, Aegon did not try to dissuade her. It would have been harder for her to refuse him than Rhaegar. She looked to make sure that the twins were walking close to her and missed the silent looks Edric and his companions exchanged.

"Elia," he said slowly. "I think it's better if we do."

This was the last thing she expected to hear. She stared at him, wondering if this was some kind of jest. But he looked serious. Very serious.

" _We_?" Rhaegar asked coldly. "I wasn't asking you, Dayne. I want to talk to my children's mother alone."

Now, Elia laughed. Angrily. Oh, this was beyond the pale! "Talking to your children's mother?" she repeated. "Alone? If you had cared to keep at least somewhat abreast with the news of these children, Rhaegar, you would have known that there is no _alone_ for us anymore. Certainly not with you here."

"Elia," Edric warned. "Don't. The matters are more serious than you know. We'd better get in the clear now. There are some troubling news that I heard."

Yes, yes, Rhaegar was trying to forge alliances to regain the Iron Throne. Elia knew this. It was no news and it was hardly troubling. No more than usual.

But Edric was not a man who fretted and saw things as darker as they were. Elia's throat went dry.

"Are you going to come with us, Targaryen?" Edric asked and Elia saw how Rhaegar bristled. Even in this exile, he had likely remained His Grace for those who had followed him and the Essosi had probably used the Westerosi title that seemed exotic to him. But he had learned some things, clearly, since his face became impassive.

"Yes," he said. "And quickly, if you please. I'm sure you wouldn't know much about this…" His eyes went meaningfully over Edric's dark skin. "But my son should not be exposed to this kind of sun for long."

"I've grown up under the Dornish sun," Aegon said icily. "And somehow, I managed not to catch fire or something."

Rhaegar's eyes met hers and for a moment, Elia saw in his a reminder of what she herself remembered with fear and disgust still: Aerys. Aerys and his love for fire. She was lucky that her son had been spared this sight.

In the pale-stoned walled manse where one of Edric's friends from before had received them, they were served some refreshments. Elia was just preparing mentally for the conversation when her husband surprised her: he opened the door and nodded at the guard there. "Hey, you. Eavesdropping?"

"Well, it's just part of my job," the man replied, apologetically, and Edric waved him over.

"Come here. As your master's good subjects, we don't mind helping you in doing your job." His friends laughed. "And you can have a goblet of wine as well."

The man accepted gratefully and Elia saw realization dawning on Rhaegar's face, followed by something that resembled shame. She was surprised that after these eleven years, she felt hurt and enraged by his surprise. He should have cared enough to know that his children were followed everywhere! Even as she was thinking this, she knew what a fool she was. To him, she had probably achieved her heart's desire and everything had happened as it should have in her dreams. Only, these dreams, this life had been changed and tainted. They would have remained the same only if he had never entered her life at all. And he had not cared enough to take care and check _what_ had happened. She drank deeply from her goblet. It was a good thing that the wine was very diluted, else she would have gotten drunk before noon.

"There were some interesting news that were brought to my knowledge," Edric finally said. "It looks that Rhaegar Targaryen here could do two things at the same time – supporting his family and himself by teaching some youths swordsplay and seek support from the most unusual allies for his plans."

Rhaegar only shrugged. "What would you have done in my place, Dayne?"

"Never allowed myself to inhabit your situation," Edric replied. "Were you not told that your daughter was betrothed to King Robert's son and heir?"

Rhaegar slowly shook his head. "No, I didn't know." He hesitated. "But it doesn't change much. This… this is something I have to do, no matter the cost. Too much depends on this."

_Three things at the same time_ , Elia thought desolately and just for a moment, as she met his eye, the pain was as piercing as it had been then and the betrayal, just as sharp.

He seemed to have read her mind, for he turned to her directly. "I would have taken care of them," he said. "No matter what. You must believe me. I would have ordered all breeds of cats that she could possibly desire."

"This, I do believe," Elia replied. "But you won't hesitate before stealing her future, will you?"

"There isn't going to be any future for anyone if I just let things be!" he answered, raising his voice. "It's true that Robert and his son do have the blood of the dragon but it isn't strong enough in them."

The guard looked uncomfortable and Elia wanted to snap at Rhaegar for placing them in this situation. Only the gods knew what the man would think of this scene! She felt that cold distance was her best bet, so she shut her mouth and did not even ask who he thought his precious heads of the dragon were now since his faith looked unshaken but when Elia had last heard, Lyanna Stark's performance in this breeding duty had been even worse than her own. Just one son and nothing more.

 


	11. The Epilogue

The heavy gates closed behind them and as Elia made the first few steps in the street, she felt like she had entered another world – the world she had come to see, the world of sun hotter than her own, of culture different than hers, yet beloved by Edric. In other words, the world where Rhaegar Targaryen was not present. She raised her face towards the sky and its warmth came upon her like a caress.

“It looks like a dream now,” she said.

“Yes,” Edric agreed. “A very bad one.”

They had traded parts, somehow. Usually, she was the one whose fears arose all of a sudden and he, the calming presence. Now, he was as nervous as a cat. He seemed to need the distraction more than her but Elia would be lying if she said she did not relish the soothing pattern that just a few hours ago had been a given.

“Come,” she said. “I want to see the temples. It’s so strange to think that every deity has a different temple here.”

This was not the first time she was saying this and he smiled. “It felt strange to me as well when I first came here,” he said, leading her down narrow alleys that would show her the hidden face of the city, the one that always reminded him of the shadow city in Sunspear. Still, even as they went past the half-broken, long dried fountain of red and white marble and she smiled at the sight of the urchins jumping right between its walls, his worry did not dissipate. He wondered if the guards would be really able to keep the children inside. He wondered how many eyes had seen them with the exiled Targaryen prince. How many tongues would be willing to relay their conversation truthfully.

“I need to talk to some magisters,” he finally said.

Elia who had hoped – stubbornly insisted in defiance of fate and her own fear – that they’d stay for a while to hear the night songs of the red priests only sighed.

“Just escort me back to the manse,” she said. All of a sudden, the guards had become not enough. They would not be enough even if every man at Starfall found their way to this square right now. The fear that she had pushed away came back in full force and she said nothing as they walked back to the manse, the illusion that she had tried to preserve falling apart.

“Try to find out what he’s up to, precisely,” she said as he headed for the door of her chamber again. “In details. We should know what he intends, so we can stay away!”

He left and she went to see what the children were doing. To her surprise, even Aegon did not look shaken by the encounter. They were feeding the kittens, touching their tiny heads with forefingers and laughing. “You should have seen what the man looked like when he saw you making it out with the basket, Ulrick!” Dyanna was saying.

“I saw what Mother looked like,” her twin replied. “How  did it ever occur to you to bring her over? Now, we aren’t allowed to go anywhere!”

At least the children had no idea of the danger everyone was in.

Dyanna bristled with indignation. “I saved your lives and you’re both being so cruel!” she cried dramatically, with her hand to her chest, looking for all the world like a tiny Ashara, and Elia almost burst out laughing.

“We had the situation fully at hand,” Aegon declared loftily and this time Elia couldn’t help it: she giggled. Fortunately, none of the children noticed, too preoccupied in their attempt to elucidate everyone’s faults and merits.

 _Can Aegon really be this indifferent to his father_ , Elia wondered. She wanted to believe this was so. She had no reason not to – Rhaegar had only been an absent figure in her son’s life, someone whose name was only evoked very rarely and never with good feelings. His mother and stepfather were the only parents he knew… and here, she once again thought about Rhaenys, all alone at King’s Landing, and she no longer felt any trace of guilt.

When Edric returned, a little before midnight, his face told her that she did not have any good news. Elia silently poured him a goblet of wine but he shook his head. “I have not eaten and it’s going to go straight to my head,” he said and sat heavily down. “How is Aegon?” he asked.

Elia thought about it. “As usual,” she said. “I expected some reaction but he seems more interested in those kittens and the fact that he isn’t allowed to leave the house than anything else.”

He smiled, relief taking years off is face. “Good,” he said. “I wasn’t sure how he was going to react. I mean, we know that he could not really feel hurt by Rhaegar Targaryen did to him but – well, he grew up without father and meeting him might have reflected badly on him.”

Elia looked at him and smiled. “He has a father, Edric,” she said. “He has you. You have been his father all his life.”   

He shook his head. “Not true,” he said. “I used to do it for you.”

“I know.”

“That only changed later.”

“I know this as well.” She smiled again, sudden sweet certainty overwhelming her. “But you did your best for him even when he was just someone to go along with me.”

“Always,” he said simply and drew a hand across his forehead. “By the Seven, this headache will hurt something awful. I’d better eat something, else it’ll get even worse. But I have to tell you… You must start arranging our departure first thing tomorrow. I don’t think the ship can be ready in less than five days but try. Please.”

“Why?” Elia asked and her heart went cold. “What did Rhaegar do?”

He told her and she felt sick before headache could make him actually be sick.

* * *

The woman came the next day, a little after sunset and Elia told the maidservant to let her in, quite surprised and curious. She did not know anyone here and no one knew her – she would have rather thought that the visitor was an old… acquaintance of Edric’s. But she had asked for Elia, specifically, and Elia received her in the solar they had been given, the one that overlooked a lemon orchard. Although the trees were not visible in the dark, breeze carried their aroma in; if Elia closed her eyes, she could imagine she was back at Starfall waiting there for Edric to swim ashore from the agony of pain. This simple life in the corner of the realm was all that she wanted right now. Voyages and exotic cities had lost their appeal for her.

“Do we know each other?” she asked after uttering the polite words of welcome.

“I suppose you can say so…” the woman replied in the common tongue and Elia squinted at her, stared, gasped.

“What are you doing here?” she asked. To her surprise, she was not angry or even resentful as she had always thought she would be.

“I came to beg.”

This was so unexpected that Elia stared harder, trying to find out what this all was about. Of all the words she associated with Lyanna Stark, begging was nowhere in the list.

“It’s true,” the young woman insisted and Elia considered this, deciding that true or not, it was ludicrous.

“Do take a seat,” she invited but did not offer any food or drinks. If her grandmother could have see her, she would have been terrified. Lack of hospitality was akin to a sin and in Dorne, not offering to share your water meant a serious lapse in manners. But Elia was not sharing her water, be it spiced with lemon or not, with this visitor.

Lyanna Stark did; now, Elia had a better view of her pale features. The girl had become almost a beauty, save for the tension that had sharpened her feature, layering a constant veil of weariness and distrust over her face. But the grey eyes that met Elia’s were not trying to slide away. They were wide and direct.

“Rhaegar has no idea that I’m here,” she said. “We don’t talk to each other this much.”

Elia shrugged, wondering what this had to do with her. “This is no business of mine.”

“No,” Lyanna agreed, “I suppose it isn’t… I’ll start by saying that I owe you an apology.”

“Don’t you think it’s a little late?” Elia’s voice was sharper than intended.

Lyanna nodded. “Too late, too little. But that’s the best I have to offer.” She paused. “This isn’t easy for me. I was jealous of you. I thought he was this handsome knight who would never be mine, although he loved me. Because of you. I didn’t want to wed Robert Baratheon, I wanted Rhaegar and when he came t me, I threw any caution and apprehension to the wind to have him.”

“Well, you do now,” Elia said. “Problem solved.” Lady Lyanna’s problem. Of course. As usual, it was all about Rhaegar and his lady love.

“He offered me freedom and I wanted this. I didn’t want to be the other woman. Have my children be less. So when he decided to annul your marriage, I accepted it readily. I tried to tell myself that this is the only right thing to do because this was the only way I could live. I could never be a mistress, someone second.”

“I think that by now, everyone knows it,” Elia said. “Do you really think I was unaware?”

“I shouldn’t have done it. The thought that there might be a war never crossed my mind but the thought that he had a wife and children did… and I did it anyway. I shouldn’t have done it and I’m sorry.”

Elia sighed. “Why are you telling me this, Lady Lyanna? To relieve your conscience, or receive something from me?”

“Both.”

At least she was honest. She had admitted that she had been wrong. This was more than what could be said about Rhaegar.

“So, what is it?”

“When you sail away, I want you to take my son with you.”

Elia rose up sharply in her chair. Whatever she had expected, it was not this. “Why?”

“Because Rhaegar is getting more obsessed than ever. Prophecy and reclaiming his right, that’s all that he thinks about… although I have to admit that he wants the Iron Throne not just out of vanity but because he thinks it’s going to give him better chances to aid the saving of the world. Do you know what plans he has about his sister?”

Elia nodded.

“He’s going to sell her to the Dothraki Khal soon after she gets her first bleeding,” Lyanna said sadly. “I wonder what his mother would have said if she were alive!”

“I don’t understand,” Elia replied. “What does this have to do with anything?”

“I want my son as far away from this madness as possible,” Lyanna said. “It’s only a matter of time before Rhaegar starts making plans for him as well, and plans that I will not like. I want Jon to be as far away from here as possible.”

“Jon?” Elia asked. “I thought his name was…”

“This isn’t what I call him,” Lyanna interrupted her. “It doesn’t matter. I only ask you to bring him to my brother. Ned will find a way to take care of him, I know he will.”

“Is this so?” Elia asked. She could not imagine Lord Stark being happy to offer shelter to the Targaryen heir but Lyanna Stark sounded so convinced!

“He will find a way,” she said with determination. “And I want Jon as far away from here as possible. But Rhaegar will never let him go, so I have to do it in secret, somehow. Please. My son is innocent.”

“I haven’t done anything to your son and I will never do something that would harm a child,” Elia remarked and Lyanna shuddered. “But do you realize what you want of me? My family and I are under constant supervision, guard, and spying. Do you really think we can take your son and bring him over to Westeros? This will amount to suicide, Lady Lyanna.”

“Then do it in secret!” the younger woman insisted. “Please. I wouldn’t have come to you if there was any other choice…”

This, Elia could believe! “No,” she said flatly. In truth, she felt some grudging admiration at the other woman’s courage to come here. Elia would have never dared, not in a millennia. “I am not doing this to punish a child for his parents’ sins, my lady,” she added, although it was not quite true. “But I won’t expose my own children to further danger for him. And even if I was inclined to do so, my husband will never agree – and I can’t demand such a thing of him. He has already changed his life, not always for the better, for me and my children. I can’t insist that he should take the risk of being branded a traitor for yours.”

“Is this your last word?” Lyanna Stark asked.

“Yes,” Elia replied in a firm voice, although she was sorry that it had to be this way.

“I see.” But the other woman was not in any hurry to leave. _Is she hoping that I’ll change my mind?_

“What were you planning to do if I had agreed?” Elia asked because she could not keep her curiosity in check anymore. “You didn’t ask me to take you?”

Lyanna Stark shrugged. “This would only make my brother more disinclined to help Jon,” she said. “And I don’t want to face him or any of the people I knew before, never. But I’m not staying with Rhaegar either, I’m not!” Her eyes glinted coldly – the silver eyes of a wolf. “One way or another, my son and I will escape.”

“How?” Elia asked.

“I don’t know yet.”

“Where are you going to go?”

“I don’t know.”

“So you have no plans and no coin, I’d wager?”

“I can win some, I can borrow, I can obtain them by begging by the side of the road, or steal them. Rhaegar is no master of mine. I’ve been suffering this situation for far too long.”

Yes, Elia could imagine this. The sheltered daughter of a Great House, suddenly reduced to a life of beggary that she had to share not just with Rhaegar, as she had dreamed, but his disappointment and her own, the guilt and regret, and two children, the youngest of whom was barely of age to be her own daughter, yet Elia had little doubt that Lyanna had been charged with doing the raising – the Seven knew that Rhaegar could not do it properly if he tried!

Elia nodded. “I wish you the best luck in your endeavors for freedom, Lady Lyanna,” she said. “For real. I almost wish I could help your boy but this is impossible, so good luck.”

Lyanna was staring at the wood surfaces with paintings in varying degree of completeness. “Who paints them?” she asked. “This is you and this is Aegon, right? Who is the artist?”

“My lord husband,” Elia replied and Lyanna kept staring at the surface on which Aegon laughed and Dyanna was making her best, “Boys!” face.

“You’re so lucky,” she said.

Elia did not need to reply, state the obvious.

* * *

The boy arrived six days later, under the guise of night and as she watched him, Elia was surprised of how mature for his age he was. He looked older than Aegon who had almost a year on him, and he was trying to suppress his fear as valiantly as his mother had tried to suppress her disappointment. “My mother said you would take me in secret aboard the ship,” he said.

“Whare is she?” Elia asked angrily and then regretted her tone.

“She went back home,” he replied.

“Can you find the way back?” she demanded and he nodded.

“Yes, I can,” he said but Elia knew that there was no way she was letting a child go in the street at this time of night on his own – and she did not know the way. She knew it was the safe thing to do, yet she could not bring herself to do it. This _was_ a child. Resentfully, she thought that the life of exile had taught Lyanna Stark many more things than she suspected, obviously. The woman had known that placed in this situation, Elia would not refuse – and indeed, she would not.

“Come with me,” she sighed. “And make no noise. We’re leaving tomorrow and by then, you should be hidden in the hold, so neither the sailors nor my lord husband suspect anything.”

As they walked towards the harbour, she wondered if this would be that last little thing that would damage her relationship with Edric beyong repair; if this would be the thing that would convince the new King that she was corroborating with the Targaryen exiles and yet, as the boy squeezed her hand because his mother had told him to trust her and the Baratheon guard was hurrying after them, his face set in grim disapproval but his mouth tightly shut, she knew that she had achieved the brightest triumph in her life –a victory over hatred and the impulse to take it out on the innocent.

 

 

**The End**


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